L I B RA R.Y OF THL U N I VER.5 ITY or ILLINOIS 808 The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the Hbrary from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN WAR - 5 f L161 — O-1096 -^L l B R.A FLY OF THE U N I VLR.S ITY Of ILLINOIS 808. 5" \AJ7ZpZ i I J PUBLIC SPEAKING 4 PUBLIC SPEAKING BY JAMES ALBERT WINANS 'rofessor of Public Speaking in Cornell University REVISE!) EDITION NEW YORK THE CENTITRY CO. 1924 Copyright, 1915, 1917, by James A. Wikans Printed in U. S. A. TO HAMILTON COLLEGE Alma Mater IN RECOGNITION OF THE FACT THAT FOR A HUNDRED YEARS SHE HAS UPHELD THE DIGNITY OF THE SPOKEN AS WELL AS OF THE WRITTEN WORD ) * PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION Much that might have been kept for the Preface, and thereby safely hidden from students, has been set down in the Introduction and in other parts of this book. There remains only what I wish to say to my own tribe, — the teachers of public speaking. The scope of the book is indicated by its title ; or would be were it not for the fact that the term public speaking is now being stretched to cover all oral expression. At any rate, I treat here of practical public speaking, and consider within the scope of this book whatever pertains to preparing and delivering one's own speech. What- ever in this text pertains to interpretation is introduced chiefly for its bearing upon the training of practical pub- lic speakers ; and I have taken a broad view of what does bear upon such training. The field is too large for complete treatment in one volume of convenient size. My endeavor has been to make a book which should form the foundation for prac- tically all the work in this field ; but with it should be used a book on argumentation, one or more books of •eeches, and also, for the sake of gaining various points " view, other texts of the same general scope as this. le main work of the student of public speaking, of irse, should be speech-making; and a great deal of his iii it ruction must be received as individual criticism. Some teachers may be interested in a somewhat more vii viii PREFACE definite statement of my method of procedure. "While the book has been written in the order which, after much experimentation, seemed best, especially with regard to economy of space, I do not follow its order strictly in teaching. I ask my class to read the Introduction and study with care Chapter 11,^ for discussion on the third day. I assign a topic of general interest for a discus- sion at the second meeting, and arrange for more care- fully prepared speeches to begin on the fourth day. For these, outlines based upon the simple form in Chapter XII are required. After these speeches Chapter XIII is studied and discussed. After another round of speeches we take up Chapters III, IV and V. After a third round of speeches, we consider Chapter XIV, and study and deliver the selection. Who is to Blame? The first stage of gesture training is brought in about this time, but the speakers are urged to gesture freely, regardless of form, from the start. After another round of original speeches, we study together another selection, perhaps A Liberal Education. This keeps us busy till the Holidays, in a three-hour course. After New Year's we have study of gesture somewhat more advanced, and end the half-year with either original speeches or selections individually prepared. Besides the speeches and selections men- tioned, each student has part in discussions of principles, in impromptu speeches, and has trials of speeches before instructors and in small groups. Much the greater part of his time is put upon practice work, but we have one preliminary examination and a final examination. The mind of the student is constantly directed to the necessity of interesting his audience, of being clear and convincing; but we reserve for the second term system- atic study of the problems of interest and persuasion. 1 The chapter numbers given are those of the second edition. PREFACE ix We put most of our time again upon practice work, mak- ing speeches of many kinds and by many methods, and including some selections. In a second year of work for upperclassmen we attempt a thoroughgoing study of principles. Masterpieces are read, and illustrative mat- ter is drawn, also, from current affairs, politics, reforms, from advertisements and from whatever can be made to serve. Speeches are made impromptu and extempore, and each student is required to select a major topic on which he writes several speeches, which are revised with care. Debate in the narrower sense is at present studied in a separate course; but I am not sure that this is a wise policy. In the advanced work one feature is the giving of lectures by students, usually based upon a text- book. I anticipate having papers and lectures upon some of the problems not fully developed in this text; for example, upon the restraint of radical action, attack- ing authorities, and the relation of novelty to persuasion. I have not thought it best to fill up the book with long extracts from speeches ; especially as we have now many books of extracts and complete speeches to draw from. I have preferred to illustrate with briefly stated prob- lems, drawn from matters well within the understanding of intelligent people ; thereby not only saving space, but also applying the principle of reference to experience." Such extracts as are given will be found useful for illus- trating more principles than those which they directly support. Not many exercises are given in this book, for I believe one teacher is rarely able to use to good advantage an- other's exercises. To get the other teacher's ideas and suggestions is stimulating ; but set exercises, such as can be set down in books, are rarely helpful. Here and there X PREFACE in this book suggestions are given, and in Chapter X are a good many suggested programs. In general, I have tried not to embarrass the teacher in the exercise of his discretion in adapting the book to his own situation. "When I have spoken somewhat positively in regard to methods, it has been with reluctance, and from a belief that the ways insisted upon were too important to pass over, and that it would be cowardly to refuse to express my belief. One lives and one learns. I believe that it makes a great deal of difference how public speaking is taught; but I do not suffer from the delusion that there is but one way to do things well. I have taken a great deal of pains to get acquainted with other teachers and learn of their ways; and I know that you who are reading this may be using methods that seem to me quite wrong, and yet getting good results. I have tried to produce for your consideration, therefore, a book of principles which should be adaptable to the work of any one who agrees with me in fundamentals. I accept as inevitable the fact that some will disagree fundamentally with my teachings. I only ask from them the indulgence of a fair reading. Our subject is yet in an unsettled state, and wide differences of opinion are unavoidable, perhaps desirable. I hope that in the fu- ture we shall have more established truth as a result of the scholarly efforts of the young men now entering our field. As for myself, I shall be happy if after my fellow- laborers have reported upon this work, I can believe I have contributed a little to the better day. And here an invocation to my critics! I hope they will prove wrong my statement in the Introduction tha^^;^ honest criticism is hard to get. If you have any pleasant things to say, please say them ; and if you have unpleas- PREFACE xi ant things to say, please say them^ — to me. I do not profess, hypocritically, that I like adverse criticism; but I promise to receive it with the meekness of Moses (see Exodus, 2: 12), and to give it as fair consideration as a poor human is capable of. I trust it is not too sensational to say that I do not believe this the best possible book on this subject. I believe that good books on public speak- ing have been written in the past. I hope that better ones will yet be written, and I hope to write one of them myself. Therefore, your criticisms, I pray! This does not mean that I send this book out with excessive modesty, either real or assumed. If I did not believe that out of years of experience and study I have produced something worthy of your attention, I should not publish it. Of the matter contained in Chapters III and IV, read as a paper at a conference, one teacher said, ^ ^ That 's all right; but, of course, it is not practical." I am pre- pared to say that if that teaching is not practical, then no teaching is practical. There may easily be ^Hoo much theory'^ in a course; but sound theory is practical. Some may have courses so brief that there is time only for a little speaking ; but we find it profitable at Cornell to introduce a considerable part of the matter in this book into a course for engineers which meets but twice a week for a half-year. After all, one is always proceeding on some theory, and one's students have some amazing theories. We want much practice ; but we should found practice upon sound principles. Practice which is not based upon sound principles is not practical. I believe in valid scientific theory, nailed down with the brass tacks" of practical suggestions and work. . . . I know well some will not approve of this book because it is not written in what they consider a proper textbook xii PREFACE style. I have not hidden behind the third person, or the ponderous ^ ' editorial we " ; but have spoken as teacher to student. Again, I have not put a large number of labels on all sorts of things. Labels are very tempting, and sometimes handy; and also at times very trouble- some. I have sought the happy mean. And I have not sought new labels when I thought the old serviceable. But back of the lack of labels is the lack of dogmatic rules. A teacher who was a student in our summer school argued that some college teacher should furnish a syllabus for public speaking and should set down things just exactly as they are, without any discussion or any leeway for the student. One is not surprised to learn that this gentleman is a teacher of mechanics. Of course, the thing has been attempted often enough, and will be again. It is much easier, when one wants quick and showy results, to be dogmatic. The method produces contented and docile students, for the most part; only, the students best worth while may revolt, and all may be disappointed later when they find that the dogmatic teachings are not readily adaptable to many practical situations. I have insisted, throughout this book, on taking the student into my confidence, and on trying to stimulate him to think for himself. This I do in my own classes; and although my students are not particu- larly docile, or impressed with the belief that my ideas are always right, I am satisfied with the result. I like to see them grow. I have particularly endeavored to lead students of this book to view speaking as a real and practical matter, having to do with actual human con- cerns. And I have not hesitated to discuss anything which might lead them to observe human nature as it is. I have wished students using this book to become intel- ligent on the subject, not merely to learn rules. I have PREFACE xiii therefore explained much. But I have not stopped with explanation. I not only wish them to understand but to believe that w^hat is urged is wise, or to form an intelli- gent belief to the contrary. And I have not only wished them to believe, but also to do. I have particularly wished them to have the right attitude toward public speaking. Many passages have been written as the im- mediate result of class-room struggles. I find in many students, for example, prejudice against emotion and iittHgination. This I have labored to overcome. If any one says that, after all, the chief thought in Chapters III and IV is that a speaker should master his subject, I shall admit the charge. I have devoted space to what may seem to us a truism, because I wish to impress the truism, and show how it can be put into practice. How- ever, I believe much more than the truism develops in the process, — principles we need throughout our work. While I have not attempted to reduce all the topics of the subject to a simple system, which seems to me impossible without artificiality, still I believe the work has unity. The key word is Atten tion. I have not in- sisted upon this idea everywhere, but everywhere atten- tion is the underlying thought. It may be that some other thought would serve as the center of thinking on this subject; but more and more -my ideas group them- selves about this center, and it seems to me that no other can be equally good for the student of public speaking. As regards sources, I have tried with scrupulous care to give credit to whomever it is due. I can conceive of no good reason for not doing so. But since one can never tell where his ideas come from, and since a preface is essentially egotistical, I will here set down, for those interested enough to read, a few remarks in regard to the influences I have been under. I was for four years in xiv PREFACE Hamilton College, and was much influenced by its tradi- tions and by Professor Brainard G. Smith. Most of Professor Smith's teaching, as was usual twenty years ago, related to delivery. With my principles of teaching he can have little sympathy; but I am indebted to him for his common-sense standards. After two years spent in high school teaching, I came to Cornell and served under the stimulating leadership of Professor Duncan Campbell Lee, who showed me how to teach without rules and without demanding imitation. I have had the advantage of a summer term under Dr. and Mrs. S. S. Curry, and have been helped by Dr. Curry 's books. But it would be unfair to these teachers and untrue to fact to say that I have derived any great part of the teach- ings of this book from them. I doubt if any one of them would own me as a disciple. The books from which I have drawn are too numerous to remember; but I acknowledge an indebtedness, in regard to teaching deliv- ery, to Kirby's Piiblic Speaking and Reading. In re- gard to the psychological foundations of this treatise, I believe I have made full acknowledgments. . . . I wish to express my gratitude for help received in a long evening's talk with my former teacher of psychology, Professor William Harder Squires, of Hamilton College, and in several conversations with Guy Montrose Whipple, now Professor of Educational Psychology in the Univer- sity of Illinois. To Professors Frank E. Brown, of South Dakota State College, John M. Clapp, of Lake Forest College, Harry Bainbridge Gough, of DePauw Univer- sity, James Milton 0 'Neill, of the University of Wiscon- sin, Charles W. Paul, of the University of Virginia, and Charles H. Woolbert, of the University of Illinois, to men who are or have been my colleagues in the Department of Public Speaking in Cornell University George A. Ever- PREFACE XV ett, Smiley Blanton, Alex M. Drummond, Guy B. Much- more, Elam J. Anderson, Theodore T. Stenberg and Roland C. Hugins, for suggestions and encouragement, given in letters and conversations (and sometimes heated combats!) ; to "William Strunk, Jr., Professor of English in Cornell University, for reading a large portion of my manuscript; to Messrs. Muchmore, Drummond, Ander- son and Stenberg for reading portions of the manuscript and assisting in the proof-reading; to Professor Much- more for preparing voice and gesture exercises; to Wil- lard Austen, Librarian of the Cornell University Library for many helpful suggestions; and to my wife and my mother for their encouraging confidence, I make grateful acknowledgments. J. A. WiNANS. November 8, 1915. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION In this second edition, following only a year after the first, I have made no radical changes, but have tried throughout to increase the clarity of expression and to add helpful suggestions. The most noticeable change is in order. Chapters II, VI, VII, VIII, and IX of the first edition are in this placed last, where they are out of the way of the general reader, but are still within easy reach of the teacher who may wish, as I do, to take them up early in his course. Chapter I (now II) I have kept in its place, because I wish to emphasize my belief that the student of speech- making should begin by making speeches, for which he needs some sound ideas, and because I believe the chap- ter establishes a desirable view-point for the whole sub- ject. There is no certainly best order. At any rate, there is no order which many will accept as best. It will be found entirely feasible to take up the chapters referred to, or those on selecting subjects, finding material and making outlines, as early as one pleases. I think it best to get on at first with some rather simple notions of the I topics mentioned, and postpone more thorough study of them until my students have, by experience and study, gained some knowledge of fundamental principles. From the various kindly suggestions which I have re- ceived, about order and about including this and omit- ting that, I am inclined to believe, not that I am surely right, but that I am not nearly so wrong as I might have xvii xviii PREFACE been. It is, of course, impossible to satisfy all; or even to satisfy myself. I am, nevertheless, grateful for the suggestions, which I have found most helpful. The numerous requests for suggestions in regard to the use of the book I hope to answer soon, but it has seemed to me that my answer might better be published for the eyes of teachers only, and not be added to an already rather bulky textbook. One point I should like to make in this connection: that a very poor use of the book is to make students swallow it whole. My ambition is to make its readers think for themselves, and to become intelligent on the subject, capable, not of applying rules,'' but of adapt- ing my suggestions and the suggestions of experience to situations that may confront them. I seek to get reac- tions from my own students ; and especially by propound- ing practical problems and by asking for illustrations of the principles. To the few who seem determined to judge the book on the assumption that it is an attempt at a systematic treatise on the philosophy, or the psychology, of public speaking, I must insist that it is no such thing. It is a practical textbook, for the use both of college students and of those who must teach themselves. I am gratified to know that many of both classes have found it suited to their needs. I have included topics, or omitted them, in accordance with my belief in their utility for the pur- pose in hand. Let me say, what seems hardly necessary to say, that I make no pretense of being a psychologist; but that I make no apology for endeavoring to use the work of any man who can help the teachers of public speaking to get their feet on a solid foundation. The criticism that has interested me most has come to PREFACE xix toy fellow teachers from several students at Cornell: that the book is so interesting and so clear that they have trouble in fixing its contents in mind, for the very lack of friction! Should I take this criticism to heart? In addition to the acknowledgments of the former preface, I wish to thank Professor J. S. Gaylord, of the University of Wisconsin, and the many others who have taken pains to write me concerning the first edition. I wish them and those who may write me about the book in the future, to believe that all kindly meant comments are gladly received, whether meekly accepted or not. J. A. WiNANS. Cornell Heights, Ithaca, N. Y., December 22, 1916. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Introduction 3 Public speaking in practical affairs. As a study. V, IL Conversing with an Audience 20 Public and private speaking compared. How to be conversational in public delivery. y III. Principles of Attention 50 Forms of attention. Derived interest. Nov- elty. Concreteness. Imagination. Sustained attention. ly. Attention of the Speaker to His Topic . . 77 Applications of the preceding chapter to the three stages of preparation. >- y. Emotion 97 Emotion necessary. Control of. elames-Lange theory. Emotion and imagmation. ^yi. Attention of the* Audience — Interest . . . 109 yariations in audiences. Principles of Chap- ter III applied. Illustrations. Qualities of style. yil. The Expository Speech 176 Pure exposition. Exposition in Argument. Use of charts, etc. VIII. Persuasion Influencing Conduct .... 185^ Persuasion defined. The audience analyzed with reference to persuasion. Attention the- ory of. Motives and emotion. Imagination. Suggestion, crowds and mobs. CONTENTS CHAPTER PA^,E IX. Persuasion and Belief 245 Attent^Sfflind belief. Logical argument. Emo- TOn and belief. Common ground. Identifi- cation of beliefs. Conservatism. Precedent and authority. Personal attitude of the speaker. Tact. Persuasion not trickery. Making the impression permanent. X. Selecting the Subject 349 Questions to consider. List of topics. XI. Finding Material — Originality 369 Use of the library. Reference works. How to^ read. What is originality. The moral ques- tion involved. XII. Extemporaneous or Written— Plans and Out- lines 385 Advantages and disadvantages of various meth- ' ods of speaking. How to avoid defects of extemporaneous address. Need of planning. Importance of outlines. How to outline speeches. XIIL Further Analysis of Mental Action as Af- fecting Delivery 424 Phrasing, centering, echoes, pause, inflection, etc. XIV. Study and Delivery of Selections .... 445 Value of. Qualities of a good selection. How to study. Examples. . XV. Gesture 468 Instinctive and necessary. The impulse. Stages of training. Poise and freedom. Ex- ercises. Criteria. Kinds of gesture, ^XVI. Platform Manners 492 XVII. Voice Training 497 Qualities of a good voif^e. Exercises and se- lections. Index . 513 PUBLIC SPEAKING ,1 « Socrates. But perhaps Rhetoric has been getting too roughly handled by us, and she might answer: What amazing nonsense you are talking! As if I forced any man to learn to speak in ignorance of the truth! Whatever my advice may be worth, I should have told him to arrive at the truth first, and then come to me. At the same time I boldly assert that mere knowledge of the truth will not give you the art of persuasion. — Plato, Phcedrus. PUBLIC SPEAKING CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION With the call for public speakers from pulpit, bar, stump, and lecture platform remaining undiminished, and with the large additional call in these latter days from ever multiplying organizations, with their meetings, conventions and banquets, it comes about that there is to-day greater opportunity and demand for speech-mak- ing than ever before. The average man finds it greatly to his advantage in civic, organization and business af- fairs to be able to stand up and speak his mind ; while any man who is known to have anything of interest to say, or who has in any way aroused favorable public at- tention, will be fairly dragged upon the platform. Thus it comes about that never before have so many untrained and ill-prepared men found themselves upon their legs facing audiences, — not unf requently to the regret of both parties. While many work out their own salvation, literally with fear and trembling, more have but scanty success. I shall not enter upon any praises of the art of public speaking. It is good and it is bad; it is base and it is noble. It is part of human life and it is what one makes it. My point is that it is important. I wish we might start with a sane, wellrbalanced view of this subject, which seems peculiarly unfortunate in the number of 3 4 PUBLIC SPEAKING half truths that gather about it. We need not deny that it is better to ''do noble deeds'' than to talk about them, in order to recognize that often one must talk before he will be allowed to do; and especially that he must talk in order to induce others to do. We need not deny that public speaking was compara- tively more important in ancient than in modern times. The point is that it is still important to-day, and that apparently in this age of discussion and government by public opinion it is increasingly important. It would be easy to fill a book with expressions by men of affairs to the effect that ability to speak well is important to success. Earl Curzon, the former Viceroy of India, told^ the students of Cambridge two years ago that ''never was eloquence, i.e., the powder of moving men by speech, more potent than now ; never was it more useful, or I may add, more admired as an accomplishment." The late Senator Hoar, long a leader in the United States Senate, declared in his old age : ^ ' ' The longer I live, the more I have come to value the gift of eloquence. . . . Every American youth, if he de- sires for any purpose to get influence over his country- men in an honorable way, will seek to become a good public speaker." Eloquence and oratory are words which easily acquire bad meanings; for the art of public speaking is readily prostituted to foolish or base uses. It is as easy to "emit chatter and futility" and to utter lies upon the platform as in conversation. When I use the word oratory, I shall use it in the sense assigned by Earl Curzon to eloquence, "the highest manifestation of the power of speech. " It was used in its sinister meaning by 1 Modern Parliamentary Eloquence, p. 4. u Introduction to Vol. XI of Reed '3 Modern Elcqvwe, INTRODUCTION 5 Andrew D. White when he said in a public address, ' ' Nothing is so cheap as oratory. ' ' But that same gentleman, statesman, educator and Corneirs Grand Old Man, has had a different thought in mind when on several occasions he has invited groups of students to his home to urge them to improve themselves in public speaking. At such times he has said to them that while there is much regrettable speaking in this country, he holds it particularly important that young men of education and honor should train themselves to speak; for the ability to speak well will greatly in- crease their influence. And this is true not only in Amer- ica but in every country in Europe, unless it be Russia. Two motives for learning to speak well are suggested by the preceding: increasing one's chance to succeed and increasing one 's power to serve. In an age of service and in an age when educated men are being recognized as leaders as never before, the more generous motive must appeal with force to young men. Educators are waking up to the value of this discipline. I shall cite only those best known to me. President Schurman has often spoken publicly of its value, pointing out that the decrease in the influence of the editorial writer has increased the importance of the speaker. And Dean Crane of Cornell, while Acting President in 1912-13, used his influence to stimulate interest in speak- ing. He said in an interview granted the University's daily paper : *^It is interesting to note the great revival of interest in public speaking all over the country at the present time. A man is not considered educated unless he can present his views clearly and forcibly. The importance of college training in this subject has been emphasized at more than one alumni banquet this year. ' ' 6 PUBLIC SPEAKING To the assertion that the press has taken the place of the speaker, Senator DoUiver of Iowa replied : ^ ^ ' There need be no fear that the spoken word will ever lose its power to influence the world. The newspaper will have no more potency in abolishing the political speech than the Tract Society will have in diminishing the importance of the preacher. It may change, and in fact already has changed, not only the taste of the audi- ence but the style of the orator. And the opinion is ven- tured here that in both cases the alteration has been for the better." There is no good in discussing the comparative impor- tance of press and platform when both are potent. The press has its important function ; but just so long as men are influenced by personality so long will the speaker, who employs this influence in the most direct way, have his place. Let me quote, not from an orator, but from One of the most thoughtful editorial pages in America : - ' ' The strange notion that the day of the orator is gone by was again disproved at Saratoga. [The reference is to the struggle in the New York State Republican conven- tion in 1910.] We do not mean that there was much that could be called oratory, but it is plain that the com- pleteness of Roosevelt's triumph was due, in some meas- ure, to his ability to take the platform for a vigorous and homegoing statement of what he wanted to impress on the men before him, and no less to the absence of any one of opposing views who could do the same thing. Great orators, like Mr. Dooley's *gre-a-at iditors,' may be all dead; but that they would be without profession, and have to turn their energies to writing for the press, if they were to come back, is preposterous." But I must beware of alarming some with this talk of orators and oratory, of political aflfairs and great influ- 1 Saturday Evening Post, May 25, 1901, p. G. 2 The New York Evening Poet, October 1, 1910. INTRODUCTION 7 ence. While every year there come into my classes stu- dents who wish to become orators, there are also others who are much afraid that they may be tricked into oratory against their will. They need not fear. No one will be an orator until he has, added to skill, a message and an occasion. But with the real desires of these students I have full sympathy. In the first place, they do not wish to take up work in which they will be ex- pected to deliver bombastic clap-trap, which is their idea of oratory ; and in the second place, they wish to. learn how to speak effectively in a plain way in their business and professional affairs. The teachings of this text are as applicable to such simple speeches as to the grandest efforts. They will apply as well to getting a job, or persuading the town council to put in a sewage system, as to '^moving the listening thousands'' to favor great reforms. That these students are right in their hope that ability to speak well will help them in their practical affairs is testified to by many. Justice Hughes, when he was one of the leaders of tSie New York bar, in a lecture before the Cornell College of Law urged the students tol^ultivate public speaking. That the trial lawyer needs this ability is patent ; but we are told that this is the day of the office lawyer.'' An important member of the law department of one of our greatest railways, a strictly office lawyer, tells me he is greatly hampered by his in- ability to make a speech, and that he could serve his company much better if he were able to represent it, particularly at dinners. But what of those men of deeds, the engineers? The dean of a certain college of civil engineering declares that if graduates in engineering could have thorough training in speaking, and some train- ing in law, they could take their places as presidents of 8 PUBLIC SPEAKING all the corporations in the land. In the new generation, he holds, the engineer will cease to be the hired man and will take charge of affairs. A graduate of the same col- lege, a practising engineer, has established generous prizes to encourage engineering students to cultivate skill in speech. And in opening the contest last year, the dean of a college of mechanical engineering declared that the donor of the prizes had acted wisely in antici- pating the future ; and that the engineer must be able to carry conviction of the truth of his results, for otherwise great enterprises cannot be carried on. In a certain university the only students required to take a course in public speaking are those in architecture. The reason for this requirement is that the faculty con- cerned has been impressed with the failures of certain practitioners to secure acceptance for excellent plans, when presenting them before boards and committees. Mr. H. M. Waite, City Manager of Dayton, himself a civil engineer, writes ; *'I am delighted to hear that at last some of the universities are paying some attention to v^hat I have felt for some time was of great importance ; that is, the teaching of' engineers to express themselves. ... It isn't oratory that is necessary. It is simply that men in the engineering profession should have experience in presenting their propositions to people.*' But no class of men dwells more earnestly on the ability to speak well than that which describes itself as consist- ing of plain business men." . **It isn^t oratory I want," such a man hastens to say, but just the ability to get up and say what I think when things are being discussed." And those who have had a little training will testify to its help in meeting and dealing with men in all sorts of relations ; for example, in dealing with their workmen, in selling goods, and in taking part in the affairs of their communities. Of course men do succeed in most vocations without the ability to make a speech. INTRODUCTION 9 The just claim is that they find this ability a help in most callings and indispensable in some. Let those who shy at the thought of oratory," or even public speaking," forget those words and think in terms of attention. "We shall find that that is the essential thing, attention and the right sort of attention, whether we are trying to tell people things, or get them to believe things or to do things ; whether we consider the case of the teacher, the preacher, the reformer, the solici- tor, the salesman, or any other who seeks to exert influ- ence. President Lowell has written,^ '^For any one who desires to advocate a new idea, the difficulty is not so ' much to convince as to get a hearing, not so much to be judged fairly as to be judged at all." And he dwells upon the need of advertising new ideas. Now public speaking is an important means of advertising, or draw- ing attention to ideas. We shall be more and more impressed with this truth as we proceed. But should speaking be studied ? To some, speaking is a wonderful art, requiring remarkable powers which must be the gift of nature. It is true that a liberal natural endowment is necessary to the great orator ; but I have met with few who could not by persistent effort become good speakers. There are others who think that speak- ing is too simple for study; as if a subject which is concerned at every point with human nature could be simple ! *'But is it not just a matter of practice?" some ask. Well, practice and experience are absolutely essential. Without practical experience, no textbook and no course of training is worth while. It is quite true that many have become good speakers, even orators, without such aids. All book and all school training, in whatever field ^Public Opinion and Popular Government^ p. 59. 10 PUBLIC SPEAKING of endeavor, are subject to the same limitation. Gradu- ally the conviction has gained ground, however, that law- yers, physiciams, engineers, and now farmers too, are better for the training of books and schools; or rather that they are best trained by a judicious combination of what the narrowly practical man is apt contemptuously to call theory," and experience gained, at first, under skilled supervision. Particularly is it true that progress in any field depends upon the development of theory. Cabbages have been grown for centuries; and yet on a farm I visited the other day the farmer, by the applica- tion of the much despised theories of the schools, was producing ten tons of cabbages more to the acre than his neighbors. Now, if by study one can improve his methods of raising cabbages, why can he not by study improve the methods of planting and growing ideas ? We study everything in these days ; even sport. It is quite true that a man may have a natural gait which will enable him to win a race over the best trained men ; but we should all have more confidence in the runner who has both natural ability and training. A runner may train himself, and to a great extent he must, as one must in speaking or anything else ; but he gets on faster and more surely with the help of one who has studied running and observed many in their development. The '^get-there'' stroke sometimes wins a boat race ; but those crews whose stroke is the product of long study of ease and efiiciency, most often ' * sweep the river. ' ' Many of those who have succeeded without aid will testify to the great advantage they might have gained by early training. Others please their vanity by culti- vating the myth that they have succeeded without effort. Henry Ward Beecher was an orator whose easy ways caused people to assume that he could not help being a INTRODUCTION 11 great speaker ; but no man has testified more earnestly to the benefits of study and training for public speaking.^ His ease was the product of training. But what is to be learned? The following pages are the best answer I can give to this question. Briefly, a student of speaking can learn much about the choice "of topics^ about finding material,! and about preparing his speech. He can learn much about -^'thinking on his feet^'; about the action. of his own mind; about the rela- tion of speaker to audience and much, very much in- deed, about audiences, and how to adapt material for 'the purpose of interesting, informing, convincing and persuading them. And what he learns he must train himself to use. Many things stressed in this text any intelligent reader knows, in a sense ; but many an intelli- gent reader, nevertheless, needs to train himself long before he can realize in practice what he knows. In particular he must train his mental action on the plat- form, and he must develop his sense of an audience. Any intelligent man knows the purposes of speaking; but most find long experience necessary before they can actually relate themselves to an audience in the right way. That is in part a matter of self-control, and in part a matter of growing gradually to realize the nature of an audience. No attempt is made in these pages to reveal a royal road to eloquence. There is no way to make a good speech without having something to say worth saying. Attempts to ignore this truth bring public speaking into discredit. But we need not run away with another half truth and assert that the something to say is all that is necessary. Given something to say, desire to say it and a proper opportunity, a good speech has become possible. 3- See his lecture on Oratory and his Yale Lectures on Preaching. 12 PUBLIC SPEAKING But there is no need for arguing the pretty theory that nothing more is needed ; for we all know men who have much to say and try hard to say it, yet with the poorest of results. Besides having something to say, a speaker must be able to think ; not only to think, but to say what he thinks; not only to say it, but to make others listen to it, understand it and feel the force of it. Some who can do all else, simply cannot deliver a speech. AVe wish they would write down what they have to say, and let us read it. To take a sane view of this subject we must take account of all that enters into the success of a speech. — the topic, the subject-matter, its formulation and its delivery ; and all this, though not all of it can be treated fully in one text, comes within the scope of this work. But what can be done in college classes ? This is a question that is best answered by experience. It is a fact that students do learn to speak well in college classes, and learn to speak in such a way that they do not have to unlearn in practical life, but only to go on developing. It is quite true that a student in one of these classes may at times learn more in one evening of experience outside than in a month of work in the class. The soldier learns in his first battle what years of drill could not teach him. And yet the magnificent German fighting machine was i trained without actual fighting to a high pitch of readi- | ness. But do not suppose that the parallel is exact ; for i the practice work of a class in public speaking can be | made more real than any mock battle. If you are doubt- | ful come to my class when it is discussing athletics, or women's suffrage, or the European war, w^ith neutrality thrown to the winds. No mock skirmishes these, but war ! j I have kept in mind in writing this text the man who INTRODUCTION 13 must *'work out his own salvation/' without class in- struction. I believe that a person who has the intelli- gence to understand and apply the principles set forth, and who has opportunity for actual practice, can succeed in becoming an effective speaker, — especially if he is so fortunate as to have a capable and candid friend to criticize him. Most of the suggestions of the text are directly applicable to work outside of classes; and the others can, in great part, easily be adapted. Nevertheless, I believe that there are advantages in class work. The ideal way is to have class work and out- side practice also. In class one has the advantage of making one's first efforts along with others in a similar situation, and this eases the embarrassment. Again, while failure always has a weakening effect, it is likely to be less disastrous in class than before other audiences. The student has also the stimulus of working with others who are trying to do the same thing. He has more op- portunity for speaking in a variety of ways and on a variety of topics than he is likely to have elsewhere. But perhaps the greatest advantage is that he can get honest, intelligent criticism by one who is trained to the work and who has had experience in watching the devel- opment of many other students. Competent criticism is extremely hard to get elsewhere. There are enough to condemn or ridicule us, and our friends are quick to tell us we do splendidly; but few will tell us the truth. There are few who are candid enough, and fewer still discriminating enough for that. The unskilful will usu- ally touch upon the incidental rather than the essential ; they will base their comments upon a very mechanical view of the subject, and they wall usually criticize too much. The teacher, on the other hand, should be capa- ble, and it is to his self-interest to tell you the truth in 14 PUBLIC SPEAKING order that you do his work credit. "When you do find anywhere a competent non-professional critic, grapple him to thy soul with hooks of steel. ' ' He is more likely to be found in one speaking class than elsewhere. The comments of student on student are not the least of the advantages of such a course. Among my treasures is this, written in the firm hand of Andrew D. White, in response to a request for a word to fraternity students about debating : "Let every student worthy of the name, — whether fraternity man or not — make the most of his university opportunities for debate and public speech. Such chances and such training he will not easily find again." I wish now to suggest another reason for studying public speaking which may not be so evident as those mentioned ; that is, that the study is, in every sense of the term, educational. Gain in practical efficiency is, of course, a part of education ; but this is not all. As has been suggested, to become a good speaker is to become to some degree a leader. It will be increasingly evident that the principles of public speaking are the principles of influence. To interest, to inform, to convince and to persuade, — these are the purposes of the speaker. Again, it is a truism that the leader must be a man of self-con- trol, and to gain power with audiences involves gaining self-control. It was Emerson w^ho said, ''If I should make the shortest list of the qualifications of the orator, I should begin with manliness; and perhaps it means here, presence of mind." We shall see very clearly in the next chapter the importance of presence of mind and self-possession ; and we shall realize increasingly in later chapters the necessity for command of thought and feeling. Education should also develop individuality, and en- able a man to stand out from the mass and on his own INTRODUCTION 15 feet. A course in public speaking takes a student off the back seat, puts him up before his fellows and compels him to do something on his own responsibility, to express his own ideas and impress them upon others. Bp^ we may go further. William James has declared : ^ *^No reception without reaction, no impression without correlative expression, — this is the great maxim which the teacher ought never to forget. ' ' Yet in how much of our college work is there encouragement to reaction and expression on the part of students ? To sit on the small of one's back, to absorb a little from lectures and as- signed readings, to squeeze the mental sponge out on an examination paper — so dry that only a trifle of sediment is left, — this too often is education under the lecture sys- tem. It is a system worse even than the old textboo method which it has superseded ; for that did provide f some class discussion. I do not know that it would wise for distinguished scholars who are also good 1 turers, to keep still while sophomores talk; but at any rate it is clear that our present methods make it highly desirable that there be some courses in which the student has opportunity for self-expression, in w^hich he has an opportunity to formulate and express and thus clarify and develop his ideas. We are told that the father of Woodrow Wilson believed that nobody had grasped a thought until he could put it quickly and definitely into words. This he did himself and this he taught his son One recalls Brendel in Ibsen's Rosmersholm. All his life he has been intoxicating himself with what he believes very wonderful thoughts, which have taken shape in his mind in "poems, visions, pictures — in the rough'' ; but he has refused to give them to the world, saying, ''Why should I profane my own ideals?" At last to do. 1 Talks to Teachers, p. 33, 16 PUBLIC SPEAKING stirred by the currents of the time, he resolves to "sacrifice them on the altar of Emancipation." But, alas ! "Just as I am stand- ing ready," he explains later, *'to pour forth the horn of plenty, I make the painful discovery that I am bankrupt. For five-and- twenty years I have sat like a miser on his double-locked treasure- chest. And then yesterday — v^^hen I open it and v^ant to display the treasure — there 's none there I" Altogether, this study is as valuable a discipline and as cultural, as well adapted to developing and giving control of one's powers and to * ^freeing the soul from fear," as any study in the curriculum. To those who have an honest fear that this study may develop in them affectations, such as cause the objection of many sensible folk to the ^'elocutionist," let me say +h^t all depends upon the way the subject is taken up. it is studied as principally a matter of delivery, as a tter of tricks, of making fine birds with naught but feathers, the danger is very great. But if we study aking strictly as a means to an end, as the means of influencing audiences, the danger is small., Strangely enough the end is often lost sight of in the study of the means. Frequently the audience is forgotten. But when the ends of speech are kept in mind, it is then safe to give due attention to any matter which affects those ends. It must be evident from the preceding that in this book we are to deal with practical public speaking. This is not a book on elocution, except as elocution is incidental to practical speaking ; and with parlor elocution we have no concern. It is not a work on oral reading, although portions of the book are applicable to that study. It discusses the principles and makes suggestions which should be helpful to one who wishes to present his own ideas in his own way, for the purpose of interesting^ in- INTRODUCTION 17 forming, convincing or persuading his hearers. In the sense that the public speaker may arise to the heights of eloquence which we call oratory, the book deals with that subject ; but it is intended to help speakers in common- place as well as in extraordinary situations. It is not designed for the encouragement of ^ ^ college oratory, ' ' if we may use that term to describe a sort of speaking which is sometimes developed in colleges and which would be impossible elsewhere. Indeed, this book is not designed to encourage public speaking at all. Heaven forfend! I hope it will tend toward the suppression of much public speaking, — of bad public speaking, and most of it is bad. I have no desire to develop the *'gift of gab,'' or the fluency which many a beginner longs for, but which is rarely lacking after a little practice. Fluency is a grave danger. It tempts to utterance too frequent and too profuse. Mere fluency is as ineffectual as the flow of a hose without a nozzle ; it does not carry. A serious study of this subject should so increase one's respect for the power of speech and give one such a realization of the difficulty and the re- sponsibility of holding the attention for ten minutes or an hour of a hundred or a thousand people, that speaking will not be undertaken lightly, without something to say worth saying or without due preparation. As regards delivery, I hope the teaching here set forth will help in attaining a style at once simple and effective. It is based upon the belief that right speaking depends upon right thinking"; but this theory will amount to little unless w^e closely consider what right thinking means and how it may be attained. Those advocates of dogmatic rules and mechanical study of delivery who ridi- cule the claim that the all sufficient direction is * ' Think, ' " 18 PUBLIC SPEAKING are justified, if we stop with that. "We must improve our thinking and learn to think like speakers. This is not a book of thumb rules; for a subject so complicated, which deals with human nature so con- stantly, cannot safely be reduced to fixed rules. Half the time the rules will not apply ; and often they are mis- leading. ' ' It is better not to know so much than to know so much that isn't so.'' There is no escape from the necessity of being intelligent on the subject, from under- standing the principles which lie back of rules, and thus understanding their limitations and how to apply the suggestions made to new situations. One should know the principles, too, in order that his practical experience and his observation of other speakers may be as fruitful as possible. The man whose mind is fixed on a set of rules will fail to see the truth that experience reveals when it seems to escape his rules. Since I am writing for college students and others of equal understanding, I feel the more justified in avoiding dogmatic teaching and in attempting to develop in my readers a speaker's intelligence. Indeed, no other way is worthy of those for whom I write. The book is per- haps a sufficient answer to the naive freshman, who when he came to ask me about my course, exclaimed, '^Gee, I don't see how you can make that stuff hard!" But while there is no attempt made to dodge natural difficul- ties and offer public speaking made easy," neither is there an attempt to make the subject more difficult than an intelligent treatment makes necessary. That would be a sorry business indeed. Rather by careful illustra- tion I have tried to be as clear as possible. If at any point the reader thinks I have dwelt unnecessarily upon the obvious, I can only say that I have written con- stantly out of the memory of class-room struggles. ( INTRODUCTION We shall now proceed to a general consideration of delivery, nu because it is of principal importance, but because the student should begin at once to deliver speeches, and he probably is more worried about delivery than about subject-matter ; and also because the discussion of delivery furnishes a good opportunity for estab- lishing a desirable view-point for the whole subject. CHAPTER II CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE Imagine all memory of speecli-ma)iing to be blotted out ; so that there is no person in the world who remem- bers that he has ever made a speech or heard a speech. Imagine, too, all speeches and all references to speeches in literature, to be blotted out; so that there is left no clue to this art. Is this the end of speech-making? Here comes a man who has seen a great race, or has been in a great battle, or is on fire with enthusiasm for a cause. He begins to talk with a friend he meets on the street ; others gather, twenty, fifty, a hundred. Interest grows intense; he lifts his voice that all may hear. But the crowd wishes to hear and see the speaker better. *'6et upon this cart ! ' ' they cry ; and he mounts the cart and goes on with his story or his plea, A private conversation has become a public speech; but under the circumstances imagined it is thought of only as a conversation, as an enlarged conversation. It does not seem abnormal, but quite the natural thing. When does the talker or converser become a speech- maker? When ten persons gather? Fifty? Or is it when he gets on the cart? Is there any real change in the nature or the spirit of the act ? Is it not essentially the same throughout, a conversation adapted to the grow- ing number of his hearers as the talker proceeds ? There may be a change, of course, if he becomes self-conscious ; but assuming that interest in story or argument remains the dominant emotion, there is no essential change it* 20 CONVERSING WITJ3 AN AUDIENCE 21 his speaking. It is probable that with the increasing importance of his position and the increasing tension of feeling that comes with numbers, he gradually modifies his tone and his diction, and permits himself to launch into a bol(?€T strain and a wider range of ideas and feel- ings than in ordinary conversation ; but the change is in degree and not in kind. He is conversing with an audi- ence. Nor is the situation essentially different if, instead of our imagined case, our hero of field or forum is invited to speak before a society, and this time has notice before- hand, has prepared, and speaks in a prepared room, with a chairman introducing him, his hearers arriving at a fixed time and sitting down in regular array. There are differences to be sure; but these differences do not change the nature of the act of speech. ^ I wish you to see that public speaking is a perfectly normal act, which calls for no strange, artificial methods, but only for an extension and development of that most familiar act, conversation. \ If you grasp this idea you will be saved from much wasted effort. Public and private speech compared. Let us examine the more important differences which will occur to the reader of this chapter. First^ it may be said, a pubjic speaker talks morejoudly than one in conversation, /^^ell, a public" speaker, just~*'~ajr a"^rivate speaker, should speak so as to be heard without strain. If you have occasion to speak to a person at the other end of a long table, you raise your voice. If you wish to speak across a noisy stream, you may have to shout. This Vvould not be ordinary speaking to be sure, but it is still conversation and not at all abnormal. The difference ^ altogether a vocal one. You speak loud enough to be Tyeard. 22 PU 3I IC SPEAKING Again, one is told, the gublie speake r does all the talk- ing; in conversation there is a give an'd'take. These statements are misleadingr"TTiere are many^conversa- tions in which one party does all or ncc^rly all the talk- ing. Because an old man talks continuously to a young man who listens respectfully, we do not sa}^ the old man is making a speech. Our imaginary speaker talked con- tinuously before he got on the cart, with but little re- < sponse from his hearers. Nor is it true that the public speaker does all the talking. The audience applauds and thereby says, ^'We approve.'' It may hiss and thereby say, * ' We disapprove. ' ' Questions may be asked and encouragement shouted. But all these expressions are only audible signs of what is going on in any audi- ence whether quiet or not. His auditors are thinking answers to the speaker's questions, or asking him ques- tions, or assenting, or making objections ; and the experi- enced speaker has learned to read less demonstrative, but no less certain signs of the thoughts and moods of his hearers. He can tell by attitude and facial expression whether the other party to this conversation is interested or bored, approves or disapproves, understands or is puzzled, and he amplifies a point or touches it lightly in accordance with what he sees. The story is told of how Eufus Choate reiterated the arguments and pleas of one of his jury addresses for three hours after eleven men were won; until he saw the stern face of the twelfth juror relax in sympathy. Many a passage of good oratorical prose can be turned into a dialogue by writing out the questions and objections that lie plainly between the lines. (See for example the selection from Curtis 's Public Duty of Educated Men, printed at tlie end of Chapter XIV.) The young speaker can do nothing bet- ter for himself than to fix firmly in mind that publir CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 23 speaking is a dialogue aud to em phasize constantly the part of the audience, anticipating and watching for its response. A third difference is said to be that the pubiiiLspeaker p repares , while the converser spea ks as th ings occur to him. It is true that a public speaker should prepare when there is opportunity; but he is none the less a public speaker because he is too indolent, or too busy, or is called upon too suddenly. Nor is a man less a con- verser because he prepares for a private conversation. Suppose a student is chairman of a committee formed for re- sistance to the abolition of cherished holidays. This student has an appointment with the President of the University for the pur- pose of presenting the views of the student body. He talks with his committee. One says, *'This is a good argument to use.'* Another, "That is not the way to put it ; this is the way to reach the President." After discussing the arguments, the chairman remembers that the President has promised him but ten minutes. He must cut out some arguments and find brief ways of presenting others ; and by the time of his appointment he knows just about what he intends to say and how he will say it. We will suppose that the President says very little, simply listens attentively with but an occasional question. We are assuming a wise student ; hence he does not take a loafing attitude or talk slang. He talks as directly and pointedly and in as good language as he can and stops on time. Has he made a speech or conversed? Conversed, of course ; but he has sifted his ideas, adapted them to his hearer, and has not presumed upon his hearer's time. He has followed a method excellent for a public speaker. Suppose further, that at the end of the conversation the Presi- dent says, *'Mr. Smith, I wish you would come to the faculty meeting to-morrow and say there what you have here." At fac- ulty meeting our chairman has fifty or a hundred hearers. He : has to raise his voice a bit, he stands up, perhaps no questions are asked ; but if he has the good sense and self-control to talk to the faculty in the same spirit and largely in the same manner as when he spoke to the President alone, he vn.ll probably make an I effective speech. } ^ If, on the other hand, .he adopts a tone and manner strange to [ , himself, but which he may consider as belonging to speech-making^ ! "\e may easily be ridiculous. 9A PUBLIC SPEAKING It is a matter of adf ptation. If we are told that public speaking demands more dignity of manner or of lan- guage, the answer is already plain: All depends upon circumstances. Our student, though discussing the same subject, talks to a fellow student in a more free and easy way than to the President and he talks to the faculty in a manner different from that in which he addresses a meeting of the student body. In a similar way can be met other arguments made to prove that public speaking and private conversation are essentially different acts, and that therefore the former calls for essentially differ- ent methods. I On the other hand, I do not maintain that public and private speech are ordinarily just alike. | We usually have no difficulty in distinguishing conversation from speech-making. Conventional differences, such as that the gjiblio-sp^akernisua]^^ grou-p4e4alk.-w]3ile^ conyerserjisualj^ make a distinction. Ordinarily, too, the public speaker does speak more loudly, does talk more continuously, does make more preparation, and especially he does have to deal with more minds. These and other differences may be important. They may make public speaking seem quite different from private speaking; but since there is practically nothing true of public speaking that may not be true at times of conversation and nothing true of conversation that may not be true of public speak- ing, we can hardly hold the differences essential. They j^re not essential to the problem of delivery, and particu- larly to the narrow phase of delivery we are about to consider, the delivery of sentences with correct emphasis, pause, pitch and inflection. Still, despite the essential identity of public and private speaking, it is misleading CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 25 to say that one speaks to an audience just as to one per- son. A good deal of space has been given to this discussion, because this conception is fundamental to all our work, and experience justifies the elaboration. Perhaps there are few that would maintain that public speaking is something far removed from other speaking ; but there are many who vaguely feel that there is a vast difference. As a consequence, they begin to speak in a strange tone, they adopt a manner stiff and pompous, they talk over the heads of their audi- ence, vociferating loudly ; or perhaps, they take a dull monotonous tone, lacking the lively communicative inflections of conversation. They may adopt a pompous diction in an abortive attempt to imi- tate Webster at his worst; or, what is the strongest evidence of their perverted conception, they endeavor to speak by a marvelous system of rules, which tell them when their voices should go up, when down, what words to emphasize, when to use guttural tones, when aspirate, and where to pause. Certain common misconceptions removed. Before pro- ceeding to our positive teaching on delivery it will be best to guard against certain misunderstandings which often arise. First, public-speaking, to be conversational in quality, need not sound like conversation, certainly not like ordinary conversation. Conventional differences may make it sound very different. However, conversa- tion has many different sounds. Much depends upon the hearer, the situation, the subject and the speaker. The same man in discussing the weather, politics, literature, religion, may have several different manners. He may be listless while speaking of your hobby, but while talking of his own impassioned. * The_d iction of the commonest man,,te nds to beco me elevated when he ? ?ak5 oF elevated subjects, even in private conversation.. V e should note, also, the~p6ssitttity^nof-^etting^a torted conception of the style of a speaker like Webster 'because most of us read only isolated passages, and the lofty strain of an impassioned peroration may be very 26 PUBLIC SPEAKING different from the body of the speech. 15arth part is fitted to its place. Nearly all have read Webster's apos- trophe to the flag at the conclusion of the Reply to Hayne ; few have read the four-hour address. Most school chil- dren have met with Webster's terrible description of the tortures of the murderer's mind, so far from ordinary discourse; but very few indeed have read the whole of that masterly address to the jury in the trial oi! the mur- derer of Captain Joseph "White. Read all and you will understand the assertion of one of Webster's contem- poraries that Webster talked to the jury as if he were a thirteenth juror who had just stepped out in front in order to address them better. Again we must* remem- ber that the conversational style of Webster, — of whom Carlyle wrote, *^No man was ever so great as Daniel AYebster looked," and who made the British laborer ex- claim, ^^By Jove, there goes a king," — that the conversa- tion of such a man would not sound like that of more commonplace people. An acquaintance has told me that he was amazed by Roscoe Conkling's ability to pour out impromptu a lofty diction in the Senate *or on the stump, until he knew Conkling personally and found that he never let down in his vocabulary. The grand style was his natural language. ^ /Secondly, do not suppose when you are urged to be ^conversational in public speech that you are expected to be less careful, or dignified, or strong, or eloquent, than you would be otherwise. There is nothing in this ad- vice to restrain us from the exercise of our highest po^^^'- ers. Perhaps there is no better way to make the than to quote what has been said of Wendell Phill.^>.i^ the great anti-slavery orator. George William "Surti^ said of him, '*It was simple colloquy — a gentleman coi versing." Yet that there was no lack of power is evi CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 2. denced by the storms he stirred up. A Richmond news- paper, which detested his doctrine of abolition, said of him, ' ' He is an infernal machine set to music ! ' ' Thomas Wentworth Higginson said of Phillips : ''The key-note of the oratory of Wendell Phillips lay in this: that it was essentially conversational — the con- versational raised to its highest power. ^ Perhaps no orator ever spoke with so little apparent effort, or began so entirely on the plane of his average hearers. It was as if he simply repeated, in a little louder tone, what he had just been saying to some familiar friend at his elbow. . . . The colloquialism was never relaxed, but it was familiarity without loss of dignity. ^Then as the argu- ment went on, the voice grew deeper, the action more animated, and the sentences came in a long sonorous swell, still easy and graceful, but powerful as the soft stretching of a tiger's paw." To take an example from present day speakers, Maud Balling- ton Booth has said that in speaking "she never was conscious of dropping a sense of conversation" ; yet she is a speaker of rare power. One of the greatest feats I have ever known was when Mrs. Booth held for two hours and a quarter the close attention of an audience at Cornell Univesity, an audience surfeited with lectures. True, her story of work in the prisons was fascinating ; but a touch of the forced, unnatural manner affected by some speakers would have sent us to boredom in half the time, nor could she ha.ve held us had there not been in her delivery real power. Please understand clearly that to have conversational quality in your public speech does not require a low I tone, or a careless manner, or undignified English. So ' far as our present problem is concerned, use what manner seems good to you. Give your thoughts fitting garb ; to! plain thoughts plain expression, to heightened thoughts'' heightened expression. What I am now urging is, that,^ whatever else you do, you should make your speech genuine communication. Do not look upon public speak- 28 PUBLIC SPEAKING ing as a performance, but as a genuine dealing with men. Thirdly, and quite in line with the preceding, do not understand that I am advocating what is called sometimes i*.*the conversational style." I advocate no style. The word suggests too strongly that all should speak in one manner, while we should stand for individuality. I urge only that our public speaking should be conversa- tional in its elements, and that each should develop and Jmprove his own best conversation. It is not conversa- tional style but conj ggrsational quality that we want in our^plati'orm delivery! Do not understand that this is somenewthing ; or that there are various kinds of good speaking and that speaking which has conversational quality is one of them. As we are using the term there is no good speaking that is not conversational ; and there never has been in any age whether grand or simple. It is true that Phillips is called the exemplar of the "conversa- tional style," and that it is frequently said that since his time American public speaking has been reformed until, as Goldwin Smith says in his Reminiscences , you will go far to hear an old- time "spread-eagle" speaker. Not only is the pomposity of former days passing; but the old formality also, and perhaps too much of the real dignity of earlier times, has disappeared along with the heavier private manners and speech of our fathers. Properly un- derstood as referring to the speaking of to-day as compared with that of fifty or a hundred years ago, the term conversational style is unobjectionable. But that is not what we are considering here. It will be best to avoid the term. A fourth common misconception remains to be dealt with: Since the first important thing for the beginner to do is to stand up and talk with his audience, some are quick to say, *^Just be natural." This advice is plausible but hardly helpful. AVhat does this phrase '*Be natural," constantly ^ased to signify all that is good, mean ? The savage is nearer to nature than the civili' CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE man; yet he is hardly a model. The child is u. natural than the adult. As Henry Ward Beeches sa. if nature were the ideal we should remain infants. It natural to be bad as well as to be good. It is natura. for some to stammer, for others to strut, for others to be afraid of audiences. Indeed, is it not natural for some to be affected ? At least affectation comes without effort. It is natural for many on the platform to be unnatural. The advocates of ^'Be natural," as an all sufficient guide are quite as likely as any to strut and bellow. It is manifest that we are juggling with various mean- ings of the word natural. It may mean (1) in a state of nature, untrained; (2) unaffected, sincere, not artificial, or exaggerated; or (3) in accordance with nature's laws, normal. The word as generally used is too loose for our purpose. If it is good to be natural in the first sense, then all education must be wrong. fWe wish to develop nature and remove defects in speaking, as in all else. / Too often the plea of naturalness is made as a defense for faults. If your mannerisms are objectionable to your hearers or decrease your effectiveness, they should be remedied if possible, whether ^'natural'' or acquired. Most of that which we call natural is merely acquired habit. Taking the second meaning of natural, we shall find that the plausible advice, ^*Be natural," is difficult of application by 'tft^'IBe'ginner, and that it is indeed '^nat- ural to be unnatural." Most beginners feel embarrass- ment. Even old speakers suffer and rarely face an audi- ence on an occasion of importance without a strong feel- ing of tension. At best the simple advice, *'Be natural," is of but negative value, meaning for us. Don't con- sciously assume strange tones and manners. It will be test to avoid the phrase altogether, unless we define it PUBLIC SPEAKING ^ it. We shall be helped more in escaping . and attaining genuine naturalness, when cher and find out how to be natural. The ^ ay seem odd to you, but we need sometimes to .ow to be natural. We need now to learn how to V ae. .n accordance with nature and to develop habits that I will hold us to the normal under the stress of the plat- ; form. Let us look more closely into the nature of con- versational speech, in order to learn what we have to develop and adapt to public delivery. Conversational delivery analyzed. Let us turn to a common experience. Why is it that a small boy in school reads ^^See — the — Ahorse — on — the — ^hill" without a trace of meaning in his tone, and yet five minutes later on the playgrounds shouts the sajne words to his playmates with «r perfect expression? And why is it that if the teacher insists that Johnnie read over his sentence and get its meaning before reading it aloud, he will read with far better expression? And why, if the teacher then asks him to stand f acing his class and read or tell the story to them, does he read with really good expression? The reason for his first improvement is apparent : in his first reading all his mind is given to recognizing words as words. They are without content for him ; they bring no meaning, no picture to his mind. His expressionless voice is a true index of his impressionless mind ; or rather, to be strict, his high strained tone expresses truly the anxious strain of his attention to the symbols before him. When he grasps the meaning, expression comes into his voice. He not only understands, but if he has a marked success, he has more than bare understanding: the ob- jects and incidents of which he reads are present to his imagination. The horse is to him a real and significant object at the instant he speaks the words. He has ' CO>'V^ERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 31 proached the conditions of his playground conversation. He is *'tainkmg on his feet''; he creates, or re-creates, the thought at the moment of delivery. But our small boy is still more successful in his read- ing when he is made to feel that he is reading or telling his story to his classmates. To throw the statement into a phrase we shall make much use of, Johnnie succeeds when he reads or speaks with a sense of communication. On the playground he has the most perfect expression of all, when with no thought of how he says things, he uses perfect tone, emphasis, and inflection. Still the advice, ''Forget your delivery," will be of little aid to the em- barrassed beginner. We can forget only by turning our attention to something else. Forget embarrassment then by holding your mind to your subject-matter and your business with your audience. Hold firmly to the concep- tion that you are there to interest them, not in your speaking, but in your ideas; to convince or persuade them. Look for their response. Stand behind your speech, and embarrassment will disappear. As soon as you can carry out these injunctions, whatever your faults, you will be a speaker. - What to do. To summarize, then, your delivery will have the desired conversational quality when you retain upon the platform these elements of the mental state of live conversation: 1. Full realization of the content of your words as you utter them,^ and 2. A lively sense of communication. 1 It may be said that the 5rst element is included in the second ; but it is doubtful if this is true in all cases. At any rate, both elements need stress. In practice much attention must be given the first ; and a groat deal of what follows is intended to show how- to develop full realization of content. This depends primarily upon mastery of subject-matter ; but beyond this is needed the well ^ablished habit of "thinking on one's feet." 32 PUBLIC SPEAKING When the first element is lacking we may characterize the delivery as absent-minded; when the i^ecotd is lack- ing we may describe the delivery as soliloquizing, not commnnicativey or indirect. These directions needed. Put so simply these direc- tions may strike some as needless. They may ask, '*Do not all sensible speakers think as they speak, and do they not realize that they speak to communicate?" Many years o^ observation convince me that these nat- ural questions must be answered in the negative. The faults of absent-minded speaking and soliloquizing speak- ing are very common. Of course, there is usually some consciousness of the meaning, but not always. Mind you, no half grasp will do. Nor is it enough to grasp the bare meaning; the emotional content also must be real- ized. To fail of contact, to be indirect, is very common in- deed. Young speakers too often look upon public speak- ing as an exhibition ; and older speakers frequently fall into a perfunctory manner, especially those who speak frequently and in a routine way. Moreover, many of those who do in a measure fulfil the conversational con- ditions, suffer from a wrong start. The man who begins his career as a speaker because he **has something to say which he wishes very much to say,'' and continues for the same reason until his habits are fixed, and who has no false notions of speaking, may come naturally to a genuine delivery. But if a speaker begins with the no- tion that he speaks to make an exhibition of his delivery, or that delivery is an external, mechanical thing to be manipulated according to rule, or in imitation of a model, he will probably develop a conventional tone and other bad habits that will resist the force of CONVERSING W^TH AN AUDIENCE SS strongly felt message and an eager audience. Unfortu- nately, most of us have made a wrong beginning with our reading and speaking, and have the habit of perfunctory delivery. We began to read with all our attention on pronunciation, and to speak pieces" we did not under- stand, in order to make admiring aunts and jealous neighbors say : * ' How splendid ! I heard every word ! ' ' when our delivery was really an abomination, — ^neither song nor speech. /Lt * - ^ tlx C lACi The conversational elements in reading. Perhaps it is more common to read than to speak absent-mindedly and indirectly. The minister, for example, reading hymn or scripture lesson, with his mind on his sermon, or on who has come to church, may proceed with but the vaguest consciousness of the meaning of what he reads and with no feeling that he is reading to answering minds. He may pronounce the words in a sonorous ministerial tone. And his congregation ? How rarely do they really listen ! If indifferent, they think of business or fashions; if devout, they piously feel it is all good and true and are affected by the sound regardless of sense, like the old lady who always wept when she heard 'Hhat blessed word, Mesopotamia!'' In many churches there is a feel- ing that nothing really counts but the sermon, and there is a notable shifting and coming to attention when ser- mon time comes. In those churches where the reading is of chief importance, the members of the congregation get the meaning, so far as they do, by following the service in their individual books. And all this is but the natural result of the perfunctory reading that prevails. When a preacher takes the pains to study out the significance of what he reads, throws off the ministerial tune, and reads as one who has thought to convey, the congregation 34 PUBLIC SPEAKING looks up with surprised inierest aiid tliinks, ^^Why, really, what a remarkable chapter that is ! ' ' What I have elaborated in regard to the reading of preachers is true generally of the reading of other speak- ers. Whenever a speaker in court or on the platform be- gins to read a quotation, the audience is likely to suspend listening until the speaker explains the meaning of what he has read. The conversational element in speaking from manu- script. The speaker with manuscript in hand is pecul- iarly tempted to repeat empty words, because it is so easy for him to do so. Nothing is easier than to recognize and pronounce words without any recognition of their con- tents. Yet speaking from manuscript need not be empty and monotonous. It may be lively and communicative, if the speaker exerts himself to think and keep in touch jwith his hearers. I When speaking from memory. The reading speaker is not popular, but by no means all readers carry manu- script to the platform. The speaker who memorizes should succeed better than the speaker v/ith manuscript ; for he can better keep in touch with his audience. As compared with the extemporaneous speaker, he is freed from the harassing necessity of choosing ideas and words from the many offering themselves, and from the neces- sity of determining order. He can, therefore, give all his mind to presenting his thought to his audience. Prob- ably, much as we admire the ability to speak extempore and necessary as it is to the well-equipped speaker, most of the great speeches have been delivered memoriter. But too often one who delivers a memorized speech really only reads, and reads badly, giving all his mind to re- calling the words. Sometimes he is reading from a man- uscript before his '^mind's eye''; or his consciousness CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 35 is epipty of all but the sound and feel of the words. ' ' ^ This tendency to keep mere words uppermost, we must earnestly fight against. The method by which one mem- orizes is important and will be treated later; but the gist of the matter is : hold yourself to the thought first, last and all the time, and avoid the parrot-like repetition of words. Some hold that a speech committed to memory cannot be delivered with spontaneity; but observation proves that this is not true. It has been said concerning the practice of George William Curtis, one of the best speak- ers of the last generation: ^^He practised that perfect memorization which has the virtues of extemporization without its faults. ' ' Higginson tells this story of Wen- dell Phillips : * ' I remember that after his Phi Beta Kappa oration, in which he had so carried away a conservative and critical audience that they found themselves applauding tyranni- cide before they knew it, I said to him, 'This could not have been written out beforehand,' and he said, *It is already in type at the Advertiser office.' I could not have believed it. ' ' It is all a matter of re-creating the thought, and it is a poor thought that cannot be thought more than once. A man in earnest, let us say a senior canvassing for a class memorial fund, or a candidate for office, mil con- verse spontaneously enough though he has prepared even his words and has repeated them in a dozen different conversations. The chronic story teller often finds his adventures growing in thrills as the years go by, if only he can find new listeners. 1 "The difference between speaking sense and nonsense is this : in the latter case, consciousness is empty of all but the sound and feel of the words; in the former, the words are the expression of a con- scious situation, the discharge of an aggregate idea." Private letter f^^ >hi Professor E. B. Titcliener, quoted by permission. 36 PUBLIC SPEAKING Whitefield, one of the greatest of preachers, declared that he v/as at his best the fortieth time he delivered a sermon. The lecturers of the Lyceum and Chautauqua platforms may repeat their ad- dresses hundreds of times, and yet deliver them with , freshness. Again, when weary or indifferent, the best of them, for example, Mr. Bryan, may give you as little sense of personal contact as a phonograph. The book agent who keeps his mind alert and is keen about his business will not remind you, as some poorer solici- tors do, that his talk was handed him by his company. When speaking extemporaneously. So indirect and monotonous is much of the speaking by the memorizing method, that it is widely condemned. The extempora- neous method is most popular of all. It has faults and virtues which may be discussed later; but here it is in order to point out that not even this method is free from the faults under consideration. We must all know by observation that it is quite as possible to make a speech without well controlled thinking, as it is to converse with- out knowing what we are talking about.'' The extem- porizer's mind is more likely to be active; but under the stress of choosing and rejecting, he may fall into con- fusion. Any experienced speaker knows how possible it is to talk on without knowing at the end of a period what he has been saying. Extraneous thoughts come, — an en- gagement forgotten, the train to be caught, disturbances in the audience, — ^yet the speaker talks on, probably form- ing grammatical sentences, but rambling and '^marking time." Again, the effort of thinking out a point not thoroughly mastered before, or consideration of a point now first presenting itself, may throw him into a reflect- ive frame of mind; his thought loses the objective char- acter needed. As a result he breaks contact with his audience and soliloquizes. r The extemporaneous speaker, therefore, needs quite as inuch as others, a firmly fixed habit of always holding Ijiis mind firmly to the matter in hand ^nd of speaking CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE directly to his audience. To fix this habit requires i most persons time and practice. The beginner has develop his powers, as does the athlete, — powers whi^.^ serve well enough for ordinary purposes, but not for extra strain. Until this habit is fixed and he has found himself as a speaker, the student should avoid all methods that tend to draw him away from the fundamentals. With special reference to directness. More speakers . fail in the second conversational element than in the first. It is highly important that we understand the distinction between communicative and non-communicative, or direct and indirect, speaking, — a distinction more easy to feel than to put into words. "We hear a speaker, perhaps we follow his thought, yet we do not feel he has business with us. If he asks questions, we do not feel provoked to reply even mentally. We are not participators, but idle spectators. There is no challenge to our attention. With another speaker we feel contact. It has been said ^ of Count Okuma, the Japanese statesman: ^^It is easy to understand the delight with which he is always heard upon the platform. He is master of the art of being in- timate with his audience — which is the secret ... of the highest quality of public speaking. ' ' We may follow a speaker who lacks directness of de- livery, from sheer interest in the subject-matter, or from a sense of duty ; but our attention is not due to delivery. Such attention is wearying and can hardly be expected from the average audience. The thought may be worthy, the language fitting, the delivery may be otherwise good, — voice clear and pleasing and the modulation true ; and yet lacking the communicative element, the speaking does not reach or grip. It may be the speaker is thinking intently, but as he lacks touch with his audience, his 1 Hamilton Wright Mabie iu the Outlook, June 14, 1913, p. 331. 38 PUBLIC SPEAKING speech is only soliloquy. We say of another speaker, ''He talks over our heads''; and this points to more th r the character of thought or vocabulary. The ^peal- may literally talk and look over our heads ; or, though bis eyes are turned toward us, he may be practically unco i- scious of our presence. Some advance from soliloquy to monologue and talk at us, or thunder at us. A But true speech is a dialogue ; better even than talking to us is talking with us. ) It is conversation with an audi- ence. The audience is conceived of by the speaker as responding, asking questions, approving and disapprov- ing. He dwells on an idea till he is sure of the response. He never follows his own train of thought to the ignor- ing of the thoughts of his hearers, 'this conception F brings into the speaker's voice thjg. tone we call direct or communicative. \ We should mate sure, in our efforts to be direct, that this tone springs from mental attitude, from a felt con- tact with our hearers; for it, no more than other tones, should be assumed as a trick of delivery. The attempt to put on directness is likely to result in an over-familiar, confidential, or wheedlin g tone which is most objection- able. It takes courage and self-control to speak straight to an audience. This is not because of embarrassment merely, but because of the necessity of commanding and direct- ing the thoughts of many. There are times when the speaker feels that it is his will against the combined wills of his hearers. The point was well put by a former student who, from being a rather weak speaker in college, developed a direct and effective style while preaching to western cowboys : ' ' I tell you, when your congregation may jump out of a window or dance in the aisle if you lose control, you have to gri^p them!" If the speaker CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 3d weakens and retires within himself, he quickly loses con- trol and a restless inattention ensues almost as distressing as these ''wild and woolly'' extremes. Said President Stryker of Hamilton College, at his best an orator of great power, ' ' It is four-fifths will power. ' ' We should emphasize in connection with directness, the effect of the eye, which. i^fluite as important as the voice in maintaining: conj:a c|L The speaker^ shtuld l«#k at his hearers squarely^^ J^Jo^dodging will dtr; nVlbi&king just over their heads, or dowiTthe^alsle, or at a friendly post. The speaker who meets the eyes of his hearers will rarely see their eyes turn away from him and he will rarely lose contact. But the temptation is often strong upon the young speaker to turn away ; not merely because of nervousness, but also because the necessity of think- ing tempts him to drop his eyes to the floor, or raise them to the ceiling. But the time for meditation has passed ; his facts, arguments and conclusions should be clearly arranged in his mind. His thinking now should be of that objective sort that is best stimulated by contact with his audience. Of course a speaker who has no opportu- nity to prepare, may be pardoytxti if he fails to observe this rule, and those who speak from notes cannot ; but the loss of force is easily noted. While a speaker should avoid a constantly shifting gaze, he should neglect no part of his audience. The part directly in front should receive most attention. Many speakers develop a bad habit of addressing one side of an audience nearly all the time, with but glances at the other. The neglected side soon grows restless. Do not let an habitual posture cause you to neglect any part of your audience. Make all feel that you are talking with them. V3nder," said a freshman, ''why Prexy preaches all his s tmons at me. ' ' " Why, ' ' replied his friend who sat 40 PUBLIC SPEAKING on the other side of the chapel, ' ' I thought Prex. aimed them all at me ! ' ' It must not be inferred from the above that a speaker should stride forward with a fierce gaze and an ^^I-am-going-to-make-you-listen'' air. It must be strength with ease, and self-confidence with respect for others, — ^'a gentleman conversing." Restraint and half -directness, Many beginners speak in a half -direct way. They are not entirely lacking in the sense of communication ; but they do not come out of themselves and vigorously take command of their hearers' attention. Sometimesi they defend themselves against criticism by declaring that they do not like noisy, de- monstrative speaking, thus showing that they mistake the critic's point. It is true that one may be effective with- out noisiness. There is a quiet directness which is highly effective; but we should not, as some do, make mere quietness an end in itself. A quiet delivery which fails to hold attention is certainly not desirable. We wish al- ways to have our words listened to and accepted, and usually there is needed a display of frank earnestness. , Quiet force is good ; but be sure there is force, not indif - ; ference. Self-restraint is not the same as self-control; freedom is consistent with dignity. The beginner, moreover, is rarely able to command the i quieter force. He gets on much faster if he throws off I restraint. To this end, I urge in particular that he 5 should indulge in great freedom of action (quite regard- less of whether he makes good gestures or not) ; for without free action most never arrive at genuine direct- ness. As a result of dropping restraint, the bei^hiner may speak with needless loudness and exaggeralt d ac- ' tion ; but if he will keep trying to communicate arid im- \ press his ideas, he will soon acquire the feeling of direct ] speech with an audience, and will find that he ca pre* , CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 41 serve this as he tones down to a more composed man- ner. We may well note at this point that this quality of communica^ tiveness is not merely a matter of delivery. Much depends upon composition, upon how the ideas are put into words, and very much upon the character of the ideas themselves. This last will grow clearer before we reach the final chapter. Conversational delivery not necessarily good. There is a strong tendency to assume at this point that when a speaker has succeeded in reproducing conversational mental conditions upon the platform, then his deliv-- ery will be perfect, or *^good enough''; and likewise a tendency, when asked to explain conversational public speaking, to ascribe to it all the virtues a speaker may possess. VBut it is obvious that if one 's conversation has defects, his enlarged conversation may have these de- fects enlarged. | Faulty pronunciation, indistinct enunci- ation, nasal or provincial twang, throaty tones, lack of range or of agility of voice, are but examples of faults that may be transferred to the platform. A rational study of technique may be beneficial after the first suc- cess is won. A rational study of technique requires that the student shall never look upon technical matters as of first importance, though they are often very important indeed. It is due in part to over-emphasis of technique that the elocutionist often falls under the condemnation of sensible folk. One reason for insisting that the class of faults mentioned in this paragraph should be at- \ tended to after rather than before conversational condi- tions are secured, is that we are prone to feel that the part of a subject which we take up first is the most fundamental. It would seem that many never get be- yond the conception that public speaking is entirely a matter of the manipulation of voice and gesture. 42 PUBLIC SPEAKING We were speaking in the last paragraph of faults ^^/^ delivery. There are of course many other reasons why i speaker whose delivery is thoroughly conversational, ma-' yet be a poor speaker. He may have a weak vocabr larly, or careless habits of thought and composition; he may lack information and ideas, or understanding of audiences; he may be deficient in imagination, earnest- ness and strength; he may have an unpleasant person- ality. It should be pointed out, however, that many of these faults tend to disappear when public speaking is thought of as a larger conversation. For example, one earnestly reaching out for the understanding of one's audience, will make more effort to be distinct than in ordinary con- versation ; and often effort is all that is needed. Nervous- ness may cause a speaker to use his voice badly; but it is clear that he is less liable to this fault when he looks upon public speech as a larger conversation, calling for a normal use of his voice, than if he assumes strange tones. If our young speaker talks too rapidly, — and no fault is more common with beginners, — a direct attempt on his part to slow down often results in increase rather than decrease of rate. But if a speaker holds himself to a full realization of the content of his words, he will pause much of necessity ; and if he is earnestly striving to talk with his audience, he will soon realize that an audience cannot be carried so rapidly as one listener. Deliberation will be the natural result. Again, if a speaker comes into intimate contact with his hearers, he is more likely to observe what manner of persons they are and adapt his message to their understanding, beliefs and feelings. How the student should begin. We shall proceed to more definite suggestions; but we have already enough for a practical beginning. iThe first thing the beginner CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 43 i to do is to gain the power to stand up and talk with , audience. / Many will not find this easy, some because of embarrassment and some because of bad habits already established. In any case the effort should be to accentu- ate the mental conditions of conversation. In the meas- ure in which the student succeeds in doing this he will succeed in expressing his ideas with true emphasis, in- flection, etc. (The doctrine of this chapter goes much further than delivery in this narrow sense, but we shall limit ourselves to this here.) If at first he does not succeed, he must keep on trying. The chief remedy for failure to express is more thinking, a firmer, more com- plete grasp of the ideas and more effort to ta^k with his hearers. He must not let mere words fill his mind, ^''ords he must have, but they must remain subordinate to the thought. He must establish the habit of speak- ing no phrase until its meaning is distinct in his mind. And, as will become clear in the following chapters, the thiiaki^n^ indicated in this chapter is not a mere dry, cold process, but is to be taken broadly as including imagi- nation and feeling. To carry out these suggestions, the student should at once prepare simple speeches and deliver them to whatever audiences are available. Much practice needed. Mental habits need forming and reforming. Long practice may be needed, too, be- fore the expression, though correct, will be adequate. We often wish to express a wider range of thoughts and feelings on the platform than in conversation. This fact makes necessary the development of the power of expression. To this end we need not practise on a ''set'' of tones, such as ''low aspirate oratund" and "high, pure, aspirate, fast"; but we may wisely practise ex- pressing a large variety of ideas and sentiments, using both our Q wa productions and those of others which w^ 44 PUBLIC SPEAKING have assimilated. In such practice we should always seek the right expression by means of a firm grasp of con- tent and the effort to communicate directly to auditors, real or imaginary. (An imagined audience is very patient and helpful for practice purposes.) As a result, we shall find the response of voice to mind growing more prompt, certain and satisfying. And since, on the other hand, the effort to express develops that which we seek to express, we shall find in such practice that harmoni- ous development of thought, feeling and voice which is the truest vocal training. The place of voice training. To this may be addei the physical training of breathing and other exercises for strengthening, purifying and freeing the voice. Ad > exercises for bettering the response of voice and mus<^l^ to the action of the mind may be w^elcomed ; provided ways that we never confuse ourselves with the nrjtioi that somehow these means are public speaking, that we do not think of such means at all when speaking, a^vJ never try to substitute them for thinking. Exercises siiOuM be employed strictly as exercises ; and it is best that .they should be kept back until the beginner has gained the power to maintain conversational conditions upon tha platform, through actual practice in addressing the class or some other audience. For further treatment of voice training, see Chapter XA'TI. Do not be mechanical. If you have understood the foregoing, you will see that there is no place in our scheme for the mechanical stressing of word3, pausing and the like. If you have made a practice of consciously* fixing emphasis, pause and inflection, abandoii the prac- tice. It is unnecessary and it will hinder you in ac- quiring the right mental attitude. If thcrt^ is time CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 45 for that practice at all, it is not at this stage. It is un- necessary for reah ^as already stated. The voice reflects the mind with re: arkable fidelity. ^ ^Expression/' says Cicero, ^^is always perfect." A clear thought is clear in expression, and a hazy thought is hazy in expression. Our voices respond promptly and instinctively to our changing thoughts, feelings and moods, and to the vary- ing situations in which we find ourselves. As a rule we take no thought of emphasis, pause, inflection and tone; yet the expression comes true. When we do take thought of it, it is most often not to express ourselves better, but to conceal indifference, eagerness, dislike, fear, or other mood. Wrong emphasis is due to failure at the moment to discriminate values ; wrong pausing is due to failure to distinguish the units of thought; the wrong tone is prompted by the wrong feeling. The remedy is com- plete thinking and sincere feeling. The voice ordinarily responds without conscious direction because this is one of the earliest reactions fixed in the nervous system. Why should not this response be as true in public as in ■ private speech, provided we can maintain upon the plat- . form conversational mental conditions ? Mechanical methods of expression have been reduced to rules, which I refer to only because many readers of these pages may have had experience with them. For example, a rule states that a conditional clause should end with a rising inflection. In speaking the sentence, *'If I go down to\ra, I will do your errand," the voice should rise at town. We may admit that this is usually ! 'true, yet insist that the rule is both unnecessary and a positive evil. Both points are vigorously put by Nathan Shepard : ^ 1 Before an Audience^ p. 69. 46 PUBLIC SPEAKING Another of the rules of the elocutionist is: * Pause before and after the emphatic word and put a circum- flex upon it. ' Where did you get this rule? From conversation. Finding that we do this naturally, let us do it mechanic- ally. We do it by instinct in private talking, let us do it by rule in public speaking. Finding that while eating, ^very time your elbow bends your mouth flies open, heref ore this rule : When your elbow bends, open your louth. ... If you deprive the speaker of his pauses id emphasis and inflections, what is left for his brains ? ' ' I ^ The last sentence touches the greatest evil in all me- *^x. lanical methods: They check thinking. If we fix the precise manner in which a sentence shall be delivered and then, as is usually done, drill this delivery till there is no danger that the vocal organs will perform otherwise than in the manner prescribed, what indeed is there left for the speaker's brains ? This easy substitute for think- ing is usually relied upon ; and this is the more true be- cause the student of mechanical training rarely conceives of speaking as other than a matter of making his voice and hands go right. He manipulates his voice as an organist manipulates his instrument, and when he changes his tones for this or that emotion, you almost see him pushing and pulling the stops. But instru- mental music is an artifical matter, while the response of voice and gesture to thought and feeling is a matter of the deepest instincts of our nature, and mechanical methods, which are a necessity to the musician, are a positive hindrance to the speaker. Besides, the rules are only half true; they conventionalize speech; and they are cumbersome and needless. The agents of expression will respond to right mental action ; let us therefore at- tend to the thinking. If at first the unfamiliar condi- tions of the platform may interfere, the remedy is not CONVERSING WITH AN AUDIENCE 47 an arbitrary substitute for thought, but more thinking and truer feeling. One particularly bad form of the mechanical method is " that which marks on the speaker 's manuscript the pauses, inflections, tones, gestures and emphatic words. Follow- ing out such a scheme takes the mind off the meaning of the words, puts attention upon a mechanism, interferes with the sense of communication, and in general has all the faults of mechanical method in the most definite form. Tig T]9 t imita te. Mechanical methods do call for some study on the part of the student; but the method of learning delivery by imitation of another lacks even this redeeming feature. It relieves from all necessity for thinking, and trains to absent-minded delivery. More- over, when a student has delivered one speech by imita- tion, he is helpless when he attempts another. But worst of all is the suppression of his own individuality. Fight against it as we may, there is nothing better for any one of us than his own individuality, developed and improved. ^David cannot fight in Saul 's armor, nor is the ass a success in the lion's skinTJ It is the fate of the imi- tator to copy the mannerism and miss the spirit. The result is caricature. What Schopenhauer says of style in writing can be applied to delivery : ^ ' Style is the phy- siognomy of the mind, and a safer index to character than the face. To imitate another man's style is like wear- ing a mask, which, be it never so fine, is not long in arous- ing disgust and abhorrence, because it is lifeless ; so that even the ugliest face is better. ' ' In the words of Wack- ernagel, Style is no lifeless mask laid upon the sub- stance of thought; it is the living play of countenance, produced by the expressive soul within. ' ' These brilliant statemQ^ts of Buffon's thought, Style is the man him- self, ' ' are more true of delivery than of composition ; be- 48 PUBLIC SPEAKING cause delivery is a more instinctive and intimate ex- pression of personality than printed words. In eondemning conscious imitation as a method of learning to speak in public, I do not overlook the fact that we learn to talk in the first place largely by unconscious imitation and that imita- tion is a large factor in education. It may be admitted that in treating some special minor faults, imitation may be valuable as a last resort. It is the easiest of all methods for the teacher, and may be justified sometimes when quick formal results are neces- sary. There are some who are slow in responding to other meth- ods. But all this does not alter the fact that imitation is the poorest of methods and disappointing in the long run ; for it does not ordinarily set the student on a course of normal development. And for those mentally able to ''run alone," it is well-nigh dis- graceful. No man with proper self-respect will be content to fol- low, as his principal method, imitation, even of the best ; and, in the nature of things, the imitator must usually imitate the medi-' ocre. I recognize the fact that students have learned to speak well by 3ome. In the words of Royce : ^ * 'If our attention succeeds in any case, . . . the object of this interest grows clearer in our minds ; that is, grows more definite and gets a better ^relief upon its back- ground. Indeed, attention is the conditio sine qua non of all important intellectual processes." Let us now give some special attention to the relation of concreteness to clearness. First, observe, the value of abstract thinking is not questioned. Abstraction and generalization are necessary to rapid and progressive thought.^ The clear thinker will be able to put his ideas into both abstract and concrete form, and one" form will be a corrective of the other. But we must observe that general and abstract terms are treacherous and often cover confusion and ignorance. The ignorant but preten- tious man may talk loudly of justice, liberty, social wel- fare, wonders of science, philosophy, without definite meaning behind his words. He will explain wireless telegraphy with a comprehensiove gesture and one word^ '^Electricity''; or questions about mental phenomena with, ''That's psychology," or, "That is nothing but suggestion. ' ' Gardiner 3 says we must expect abstractions from two classes of men : "First, the great thinkers whoise intellectual powers work, as it were, by leaps and flights ; in the other extreme, from people who are too lazy to think their subject out in specific detail. . . . It is only the man who can think clearly who is not afraid to think hard, and to test his thought by the actual facts of experi- ence." 1 Outlines of Psychology, p. 261. 2 For a well balanced discussion of this subject see Adan\s' BiDpoHition and Illustration in T caching , chapter on Elaboration. 3 Forms of Prose Discourse^ p. 52. PRINCIPLES OF ATTENTION 65 The German philosopher Schopenhauer,i speaking of writers who have little to say, remarks : "Another characteristic of such writ- ers is that they always avoid a positive assertion when they can possibly do so, in order to leave a loophole for escape in case of need. Hence, they never fail to choose the more abstract way of expressing themselves ; whereas intelligent people use the more con- crete.'^ Professor Hill sums up the advantages and disadvantages of gen- eral words : 2 The general term covers more ground but is less definite than the specific. It serves to classify and, as it were, store up knowledge. General words are of service in writings in- tended to popularize science, enabling the writer to avoid technical tei-ms. General expressions are sometimes more striking than spe- cific ones ; as when we say of something, "It is perfection,'* or when Byron spoke of a "sublime mediocrity." General words are a resource of those who seek to disarm opposition, or to veil un- pleasant facts ; but also of those who seek "to hide poverty of thought in richness of language, to give obscurity an air of clever- ness and shallowness the dignity of an oracle, to cover the inten- tion to say nothing with the appearance of having said much, or to *front South by North,' as Lowell's 'Birdofredum Sawin' did. They abound in the resolutions of political parties, ^appeals' of popular orators, 'tributes to departed worth,' second-rate sermons, and school compositions." Few of us would find it possible to prove all our gen- eralizations ; but we certainly should avoid using abstrac- tions and generalizations which we have not tested by comparison with the world of fact and experience. Unfortunately we accept far too much from teachers and books. One is often surprised at the wild way in which, for example, economic terms are bandied by those to whom they have but the haziest meaning. Just as the truth that two and two makes four is learned by the child by putting together two apples and two apples, so other conceptions should. be put to the test of reality. 1 Essay On Style, found conveniently in Cooper's Theories of Style. 2 Foundations of Rhetoric, p. 187. A book on common gram- raatical and rhetorical errors, very sane and very useful in a stu* d<^nt's library. 66 PUBLIC SPEAKING We can learn the meaning of words from dictionaries, but we are liable to absurd mistakes when we use dictionaries wliich "di- vest the words of all concrete accompaniments that really would make them intelligible to the learner." (By the way, do you at once get a clear-cut meaning from that quotation?) If you are not familiar with the word apperception^ turn to a small dictionary and learn that it means "mental perception." Perhaps you think you understand. Look in your Webster and find that apperception is "perception involving self-consciousness." Now if you are told that apperception is the process I have been urging and illustrat- ing under the head of Derived Interest, you may understand the further definition, "Cognition through the relating of new ideas to familiar ideas." A student of the law of contracts may think he understands consideration when he reads the definition; but after a week spent in the study of cases he knows that he did not know. We can rarely be sure of a word until we refer it to concrete situations. Even familiar words in new combinations may be elusive. Un- less we have given more than ordinary attention to such terms as social consciousness^ survival of the fittest, natural selection, so- cialization of wealth, we are not likely to know their precise mean- ing, and thus to have earned the right to use them. Experience with students in interpreting selections proves that abstract statements are far more often misunderstood, even when simple, than concrete ones. Take the sentence (found in the Cur- tis selection, at the end of Chapter XIV) : "When an American citizen is content with voting merely, he consents to accept a doubt- ful alternative." This has often been misunderstood, and more often remained meaningless, until it has been translated into con- crete terms, as "Jeremy Diddler and Dick Turpin'* ; or, better, into the names of two rascally students known to the student. For me it becomes significant when I think of an aldermanic election where one candidate was described as a knave and the other as a fool. Indeed, how can one think about the matter — really think about it — otherwise? Is it not the natural action of the mind when one tries to attend to this expression, to refer to actual political conditions? From the same paragraph is taken this sen- tence, which has made more trouble than the other : "In a rural community such as this country was a hundred years ago, who- ever was nominated for oflSce was known to his neighbors, and the consciousness of that knowledge was a conservative influence in determining nominations." Surely not a difficult thought, but it has proved very indistinct to many until there has been pictured a country village with a caucus in progress : Bill Jones is an as- pirant for the nomination for supervisor, but the leaders are shak- PRINCIPLES OF ATTENTION 67 ing their heads because all the folks know of Bill's shady connec- tions with a certain bridge company. Any clear-headed person gets readily enough the main outlines of the selection from which these quotations are taken ; but it is much clearer, and of course much more vivid to those who by experience, observation and study, have gained a knowledge of political conditions. Clearness, evidently enough, is a matter larger than concrete- ness. By every means, educated men should strive to use w^ords accurately as an aid to thinking and speaking clearly. It is re- grettable that so many students are content to use words with but a guess at their meaning. Emphasis on this subject is justified in a textbook on public speaking, for accurate use of words and clear thinking are not likely to go with "hot air" and bombast. Specific vs. general words. I have used abstract and general as synonyms, and there is ample authority for so doing ; ^ but generalizations can be expressed in concrete terms, as, ^^All men are liars.'' Plainly enough the spe- cific is yet more vivid than the concrete. A horse may bring to mind but a hazy, characterless image; but old Dobbin brings a picture with proper color, shape and size. Herbert Spencer, in developing his principle of ' economy of attention, tells us that concrete and specific expressions are more vivid and require less effort to trans- late into thoughts, than abstract and general terms. *'We should avoid," he says,^ ^^such a sentence as: ^'In proportion as the manners, customs, and amuse- ments of a nation are cruel and barbarous, the regulations of their penal code will be severe. And we should write : ^*In proportion as men delight in battles, bull-fights, and combats of gladiators, will they punish by hanging, burning, and the rack. " But the change shows less the advantage of the concrete over the abstract than that of the specific over the general. 1 Spencer, Philosophy of Style, found in Cooper's Theories of Style, p. 277; Hill, Foundations of Rhetoric, p. 188; Titcheuer, Textbook, p. 529. 2 Cooper, Theories of Style, p. 278. 68 PUBLIC SPEAKING As an example of the greater power of the specific to catch at - tention, take this : A newsboy passes through a car shouting, "Papers here, morning papers I" All faces wear an indifferent look. "New York papers, World, Herald, Sun, American!'^ and several call him back. The specific names had stirred interest in particular papers, or topics associated with particular journals, as sport, politics, foreign news. "All aljout the baseball games," may succeed better yet ; and still better, "Athletics beat the Giants ; Baker gets two home-runs !" It may be said concerning Spencer's sentences, that while the second is undoubtedly more vivid and more likely to catch attention, we shall have the clearest under- standing of the thought when we take the two together ; for when the general truth is what is aimed at, there is always a possibility that the hearer may not deduce it from a specific statement. Note how, in the following sentence, the concrete and abstract statements help each other : "In the nature of things we may not be presumed to have attained through evolutionary processes that perfection in which the lower nature shall be in complete subjection to the higher. The ghost of our four-footed ancestry will not down." Summary. For the sake of both clearness and vivid- ness, we should think and express our thoughts, not merely in abstract and general terms, but also in con- crete and specific terms. As a rule, the concrete attracts attention more than the abstract, and the specific still more than the merely concrete. Dewey's definitions of the term concrete. Some writers give to the terms abstract and concrete modified mean- ings which are not without suggestion for us. Professor Dewey says ; ^ ''Concrete denotes a meaning marked off from other meanings so that it is readily apprehended by itself. When we hear the words, table^ chair, stove, coat, we do 1 How We Think, p. 13G, PRINCIPLES OF ATTENTION 69 not have to reflect in order to grasp what is meant. The terms convey meaning so directly that no effort at transla- tion is needed. The meanings of some terms and things, however, are grasped only by first calling to mind more familiar things and then tracing the connections between them and what we do not- understand. Roughly speak- ing, the former kind of meanings is concrete ; the latter abstract." So ''what is familiar is mentally concrete." If you are beginning physics molecule is abstract, for you have to translate it; when at home in the subject the term becomes concrete. To most of us, the terms of the metric system are abstract. So concreteness is a rela- tive matter, depending on the intellectual progress of the individual. In this use of the word. Be concrete means: Think out your subject in terms Vv^ith which you are so familiar, of the meanings of which you are so certain^ that no translation is necessary. One has but to reflect on his difficulties in getting with certainty and clearness the thought in a passage from a foreign tongue in which he is not thoroughly at home, to appreciate the force of this advice. Dewey goes further and finds that the limits of the concrete, that is, the familiar, — ''are fixed mainly by the demands of the practical life Things such as sticks and stones, meat and potatoes, houses and trees, are such constant features of the envi- ronment of w^hich we have to take account in order to live, that their important meanings are soon learnt, and indissolubly associated with objects. . . . The necessities of social intercourse convey to adults a like concreteness upon such terms as taxes, elections, wages, the law, and soon. . . . By contrast, the abstract is the ^7t^^ that not intimately associated with pr act icai^^^ The abstract thinker . . . deliberately abstracts from application in life; that is, he leaves practical uses out 70 PUBLIC SPEAKING of account. . . . When thinking is used as a means to some end, good, or value beyond itself, it is concrete; when it is employed simply as a means to more thinkingy it is abstract/' Education should develop the capabili- ties, possessed by every human being, to think in both ways. '^Nor is theoretical thinking a higher type of thinking than practical. A person who has at command both types of thinking is of a higher order than he who possesses only one." Here again is food for thought. Most of us under- stand truth more clearly and attend to it more easily when we see its practical applications. Think concretely in this sense, means : Think out your subjects with refer- ence to their practical bearings ; think, not only in terms of men and things and institutions, but also in terms of their aims, uses and purposes. Imagination. If we fill our minds with knowledge of our subject, if we relate this to experience, if we think in concrete terms and emphasize practical applications, we shall fill our minds with images. This tendency of thought to take the form of images is to be encouraged by the speaker. Kinds of imagery. The psychologist's use of the word images is technical and covers not only what one sees in the ^^mind^s eye," but also what one hears in the mind's ear, and movements, tastes, smells, touches which one experiences in imagination. When there comes into mind a picture, one is said to have a visual image; when one hears sounds not actual, as when a musician hears the music of the score he is reading, one has an auditory image, ' ' I call up a former experience in which I was playing football," says Professor Scott,^ feel in imagi- 1 Psychology of Pullic Speaking. PRINCIPLES OF ATTENmON 71 nation the straining of the muscles as I attempted to push against the line. I imagine the terrible struggle, the twisting, straining and writhing of every muscle, tendon and joint. As I imagine it, I find the state is reestablished and I am unconsciously leaning toward the goal as if the experience were a present one. My motor imagery of the football game is almost as distinct as the motor perception of moving the table. ... In my imagi- nation I feel a fly slowly crawling up my nose — I have a tactual image of it — and the image is so strong that I have to stop to rub my nose. I ate a peach this morn- ing. ... As I think of how it tasted, my mouth waters — I have a vivid gustatory image of the peach. ... As I think of how the gas factory smelt yesterday when I passed it, I have an olfactory image of the gas. ... As I think of how it felt when I stepped on a rusty nail, I have a mental image of the pain. ' ' Individuals differ with regard to the forms of imagery which predominate in their consciousness, and they differ in the vividness of their imagery ; but images are common to alh The majority have visual images as their most vivid form and are said to be "eye-minded." Others are "ear-minded" ; while others are more strongly motor. The other forms of images are usually less dis- tinct. Most persons are of mixed type and have, in varying de- grees of distinctness, several of the forms. Mental images vary from those faint and incomplete to those so vivid that we mistake them for perceptions coming through the senses. We think we see Brown on the street, but learn he is out of town ; we think we hear a call but no one is near ; we think the bullet pierced our flesh, but the surgeon finds only a hole in our coat. Balzac, we are told, "could produce, in his own body, the sharpest pain of being cut with a knife by imagining himself cut." Images and imagination. The term imagination is most conveniently used as a name for the sum total of the mental processes that express themselves in our mental imagery. When used psychologically the word imagination conveys no implication that the mental imagery in question stands for unreal or fantastic ob- 72 PUBLIC SPEAKING jects."^ We have here at once an authoritative defini- tion and the correction of a mistaken notion. The imaginative and the imaginary. We must drive out of our heads once for all the mistaken belief that in speaking of imagination we refer to the fanciful. It is true that without control imagination may lead us far astray; but rightly controlled, ^*The imaginative is not necessarily the imaginary. . . . The proper function of imagination is vision of realities which cannot be exhib- ited under existing conditions. " ^ A general planning a battle, aud directing it over a field a hundred miles in extent ; a war correspondent writing his despatch, weav- ing together what he has seen and what he has been told, with no part of the reality before him as he writes, the historian writing the authoritative description years after, — do not all these need imagination to make situations real and true? Imagination is also the foundation of sympathy, faith, hope, ambition. / ^^^-The imagination is not a process of thought which [must deal chiefly with unrealities and impossibilities, jand which has for its chief end our amusement. ... It /is rather a commonplace necessary process, which illu- mines the way for our everyday thinking and acting — .'a process without which we think and act by haphazard 'chance or blind imitation. It is the process by which the images from our past experiences are marshaled and made to serve our present. Imagination looks into the future and constructs our patterns and lays our plans. It sets up our ideals and pictures us in the act of achiev- ing them. It enables us to live our joys and sorrows, our victories and defeats, before we reach them. It looks into the past and allows us to live with the kings and seers of old, or it goes back to the beginning and sees things in the process of making. It comes into our present and 1 Royce, Outlines of Psychology, p. 161. 2 Dewey, How We Think, p. 224. PRINCIPLES OF ATTENTION 73 plays a part in every act from the simplest to the most complex. . . . " , . , Suppose I describe to you the siege which gave Port Arthur to Japan. Unless you can take the images which my words suggest and build them into struggling, shouting, bleeding soldiers ; into forts and entanglements and breastworks ; into roaring cannon and whistling bul- let and screaming shell — :unless you can take all these separate images and out of them get one great unified complex, then my description will be to you only so many v/ords largely without content, and you will lack the power to comprehend the historical event in any com- plete way. Unless you can read the poem and out of the images suggested by the words reconstruct the picture which was in the mind of the author as he wrote 'The Village Blacksmith' or 'Snowbound,' the significance will have dropped out, and the throbbing scenes of life and action become only so many dead words, like the shell of the chrysalis after the butterfly has left its shroud. . . . Without the power to reconstruct [the pictures] as you read, you may commit the words, and be able to re- cite them, and to pass an examination upon them, but the living reality . . . will forever escape you. " ^ Imagination and attention. The first reason why a speaker should encourage the tendency of his thought to take the form of images, is that imagery makes a strong ^ demand upon attention. Imagery makes thought more vivid, because more life-like and objective ; that is, more like actual experience coming to us through our senses. We cannot help attending to strong sensations; and we are strongly drawn by images which reproduce sensations and perceptions. If you wished to interest a boy in France, you would take him there if possible. If you could not do that, you would try to make him imagine what France is like, its scenery, people, art and life. Imagination and clearness. While chief emphasis is 1 Betts, Mind and its Education, p. 128. 74 PUBLIC SPEAKING laid upon imagination as a source of vividness, we see from the preceding examples that imagery makes for clearness of thought also. ''History, literature, and geography, nay, even geometry and arithmetic, are full of matters that must be imaginatively realized if they are realized at all. ' ' ^ The mathematician treating of solid forms, the physicist considering atoms and gravitation and projecting his theories and laws into the universe, and the biologist evolving theories of life, must have imagination. Faraday and Darwin are ranked among the great imaginative minds of the last century. Com- ing into the world of affairs, the inventor constructing a machine, the architect working over elevations and the arrangement of rooms, chimneys and stairways, the states- man seeking to grasp the situation in a distant province, or to forecast the effect of a new tariff law, the speaker presenting these same matters to an audience, or any one who has to realize an object or situation, past, present, or future, not actually present to his senses, is dependent upon the imagination, ''the instrument of reality." ' ' Unless the flagging interest of the common man, ' ' says Ross,^ "be stimulated to divine the multifarious life of his country, his will be no fit hands to hold the reins. ' ' Imagination, productive and reproductive. We find the terms productive and reproductive used as distinguish- ing, not so much two kinds, as two functions of imagina- tion. (Productive imagination is sometimes called cre- ative, a word somewhat too pretentious, as we shall see.) As the preceding examples indicate, imagination repro- duces past experiences, though never with complete fidel- ity. This is memory. Again, we imagine things or events we have not experienced ; that is, we exercise pro- ductive imagination. 1 Dewey, How Wc Thinh, p. 224. 2 SocM Control, p. 259. PRINCIPLES OF ATTENTION 75 Imagination must have material with which to work. Productive imagination cannot really create anything ; it can only present new combinations of already familiar elements. We have done no better in picturing an angel than to attach wings to a beautiful human being and our gods are always glorified men. Almost any boy has his idea of what a battle is like ; but it is made up from his experiences in fist and snowball fights and his little knowl- edge of guns and cannons, helped out by pictures and vivid descriptions. Since the most brilliant imagination is thus limited by previous experience, it follows that to imagine vividly and accurately a scene, a situation, or an experience, we have to store our minds with an abundance of data arising from accurate observation and wide read- ing. The boy's idea of a battle may be in many ways grotesque. It is sure to be unless he has added study to his small experience. So a statesman may have a distorted idea of affairs in the Far East. What imagination can do with proper material. Equally important is the truth that, given sufficient facts, imagination can use them to build conceptions both vivid and true. Without imagination the facts are dead stuff ; but with imagination a gifted boy can, by adding study to his little experience, gain such a true picture of a battle that he can write a realistic battle story. He may be able to feel the actual sensations of going under fire.^ So too the statesman, by a study of the materials at hand, warmed into life by constructive imagination, may gain a view of the situation in the Far East in which products, peoples and armaments fall into proper relations, so that he can deal justly with situations as they arise. He is like a blindfolded chess-player, only his game is vastly more complicated. It would be much easier, of course, if 1 Read Stephen Crane's Red Badge of Courage, 76 PUBLIC SPEAKING one had actual observation and experience to reproduce directly ; but it is rather rare that one has complete first- hand knowledge of a situation with which one has to deal, or of which one has to speak. '*The image thus affords us," says Angell,^ ''the method by which we shake off the shackles of the world of objects immediately present to sense, and secure the freedom to overstep the limits of space and time as our fancy, or our necessity, may dictate. ' ' Conclusion. Everywhere we have found need for a thorough knowledge of the subjects we wish to treat, We find that this knowledge must be combined with our existing store and all worked over in many ways. Among possible ways, we emphasize thinking our material out in concrete terms, and building it, by power of imagination, into the forms of actual things, — men, situations and events. This is not the place, of course, for the systematic treatment of these topics ; and I have simply emphasized those matters v/hich experience indicates as needing spe« cial attention in our work. In the next chapter we shall apply the principles of this to the attention of the speaker himself. In later chapters the principles will prove of value with reference to the attention of the audience. 1 Psychology, p. 178. \ CHAPTER IV THE speaker's ATTENTION TO HIS TOPIC We are now prepared to consider more fully the means of fulfilling the requirement that a speaker should have a; full realization of the content of his words as he utters^ them. Since he must also attend to his audience, he cannot absolutely lose himself in his subject; but we know that the danger is that the young speaker will at- tend to neither ideas nor audiences, and will speak only empty words. He should seek, therefore, so to develop his theme that it will powerfully command his attention. His attention, as he stands on the platform, will depend not merely upon his will, but more upon his preparation, the abundance of his material and his handling of it. He can do much by sheer determination to attend, by forming the habit of never speaking with wandering attention ; but more than will power is needed. Topics of interest. When feasible, the speaker should choose topics of interest to himself, as well as to his audience, so that he may have an initial interest to de- velop. Here we touch upon one of the most common causes of poor work in public speaking classes : the speak- ers often take subjects, not because they are interested, but because they must have something to talk about.'' But though one has to speak upon a subject that does not interest him at the outset (and there may be good reason In the occasion, the expectation of the audience, or in the ultimate purpose of the speaker himself), even then the case is not hopeless. 77 78 PUBLIC SPEAKING Applications of the preceding chapter. To such a case as that just mentioned and to the commoner case of an in- terest which needs deepening, we may apply the lessons of the preceding chapter. The application is so aptly made by a student, in an examination paper written at the end of a brief elementary course, that I take pleasure in quoting him : ^ ^^To work up interest in any subject we must have more than a superficial knowledge of it. It is the person who knows nothing about things who is not interested in them. Suppose a person has never studied bridges; then all bridges are alike to him, either very long, or very wide, or very high, and beyond that he is not interested. In other words, his interest in a new bridge is short- lived and may be exhausted by looking at it a moment or so. But to one who has made a study of their every member, every unit has a significance, and he can spend hours inspecting them, if anything increasing his interest. Thus it is with a topic for a speech. The more work done upon its preparation the more points of connecting interest with other things we see; and the minute the mind correlates the speech with other things in our own experiences interest becomes quickened. Whenever we see an'article upon the subject, or a like subject, we jump to read it, for it is connected with something we already know a little about. ' ' Let us suppose, as an extreme case, that you are as- signed to speak upon Greek archaeology, and you do not know even what the term means. What to do? First, you proceed to find out what the topic means, and by appl^nng secondary attention, gain some informatioii about it. You discover that the Greeks, instead of beir:^ mere book creatures, actually had sports, Olympic gamoo in fact; and that we are imitating their sports to-da}". Thus a connection is made between them and your c^^tab- 1 Mr. J. C. Ward Jr., Sibley College, 1914. THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 79 lished interest in athletics. Go into the museum of easts and look at the Discus Thrower and the Wrestler ; study their muscles and attitudes. Following this line of study, you may become interested in Greek art. Again, you find the Greeks were a military people and fought heroic battles on land and sea. Now you have at least two points of contact which would make the Greeks interest- ing even to a twelve-year-old. You find, furthermore, that they had industries, science, engineers, lawyers, doctors, slaves. Some or all of these, and many other bits of information, develop in you more and more inter- est, until you find it no hardship to study the material remains of this wonderful people. The points of first contact will shed their interest upon related points, and gradually interest will suffuse the entire subject. The new and novel will furnish interest by comparison and contrast with the familiar. There will be ample scope for imagination in making real the country, the people and their life. First stage of preparation: review of what one has. To illustrate more in detail, suppose you are to speak upon Lincoln, and that you have some knowledge of and inter- est in your subject. First, see what can be made of your present store. If you sit down and frown at a piece of paper, you are not likely to accomplish much thinking. You must do something with your material. Apply the directions of Angell and James : ' ^ To keep a thought alive . . . keep turning it over and over, keep doing something with if; ^^roll it over and over inces- santly and consider different aspects of it in turn." ^^Ask questions of it; examine it from all sides." Think of Lincoln in various characters, — as a boy on the fron- tier, as laborer, student, lawyer, politician, stump speaker, writer, president. Ask yourself how be became educated 80 PUBLIC SPEAKING with such meager opportunities, the secret of his success as a lawyer, of his hold upon the people, of his success in a terrible crisis. In asking questions and considering possibilities, do not refuse to consider those that seem futile ; they may lead to something. You will find a mechanical device i of great benefit in this work : write each idea on a separate slip of paper or a card. First, this serves to objectify your idea, to get it out where you can view it more as if it were another's. The very process of writing it down may show you its futility, or make it bloom into a better idea. Expression both clarifies and develops. In the second place, this method is better than writing in a note book, because of greater ease of arranging and rearranging until the fruitless ideas are rejected and the remainder brought into a system which shows their relations. ^ By the process here advised, your mind is aided in attending to the various phases of the subject''; and as a result your mastery increases. You are at least on the trail of some ideas and have ^*got the subject on your mind. " You have a beginning on that important matter, an analysis; for to analyze is to find out the possible topics and their relations. You have a tentative plan and outline. Furthermore, this stage of work makes for independence and originality of thought, for you start with an individual point of view. It may be you will abandon every supposed fact, every opinion, every bit of analysis, as a result of further study; still you will not simply ^'swallow whole" what you read, but will use dis- crimination and judgment, since you have brought forth from the recesses of your subconscious mind something for a basis of comparison. You will also save time in the end ; for knowing v/hat you have and what you lack, and what some of the phases of the subject are, you now pro- ceed to read to more purpose, looking for definite things, rather than reading hit and miss. 1 Of. Wendell, English Composition, pp. 165, 173, 211. THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 81 A common cause of poor speaking is the omission of this stage of preparation. Second stage of preparation: reading and conversing. Another cause of poor speaking is found in failure to acquire an abundance of material. You should now pro- ceed to increase your information about Lincoln. This you will, in this case, gain chiefly by reading. In ideal preparation you would read everything obtainable. In practice you should read as much as time and opportunity permit. You should read about Lincoln in general, till you have a good understanding of his career as a whole, in order that you may not get and give a distorted view of him. Then you should read especially upon that phase which is your theme. While you should read much, you should spend more time in thinking of what you read, — really thinking, not mooning over your book. You should be assimilating what you learn with what you al- ready have, comparing, rejecting or accepting, as judg- ment dictates. * ^ Knit each new thing on to some acquisi- tion already in mind"; for example, each fact you learn in regard to Lincoln's attitude toward slavery should not be left isolated, but should be compared with what you already have in mind on that topic, confirming or correct- ing your views. Sift, compare, contrast, bind together. *^To think," says Halleck,^ '^is to compare things with each other, to notice wherein they agree and differ, and to classify them according to those agreements and dif- ferences. " You need not only information, but informa- tion analyzed and synthesized into order. But reading is not the only way to gain facts and the stimulation of comparing your own ideas with those of others. Talk with those who know. What could be more helpful, in preparing our imagined speech, than to Psychology and Psychic Culture^ p. 180. 82 PUBLIC SPEAKING talk with a man who actually knew Lincoln? Particu- larly would such a conversation bring Lincoln home to you as a real person. But talk also with people who do not know much of your subject, with many kinds of peo- ple. They will suggest new ideas to you ; and in particu- lar show you how your audience is likely to take your speech and what the difficulties are. It helps some speakers in preparing a speech to talk to themselves. In all this work, and in that which follows, notes should be taken on slips or cards, and the new cards arranged with the old until the best order is found and the main heads stand out. Third stage: working the material. The work now to be discussed should not be held back till all suggested above has been done; it simply should be more empha- sized after the materials are gained. Now make sure that your thought of the subject is concrete. In treating of a man, your thinking will tend to concreteness ; yet there may be much in what you have read on Lincoln that needs to be brought to the touchstone of reality, especially the ' ' glittering generalities ' ' in eulogistic utter- ances. What comes to you in unfamiliar terminology and method of thought, reduce to familiar terms. Com- pare Lincoln 's experiences with familiar experiences and his traits with those you observe in others. Think of his going about the homely duties of life, in common- place situations; do not get a theatrical view of him, or imagine him always at the storm center of a crisis. Think of him in practical terms ; for instance, ask your- self how Lincoln, with his characteristics as man, lawyer, or president, would act to-day. Would he be a corpora- tion lawyer ? A ' ^ standpatter " or a liberal ? What sug- gestions, practical for young men, with regard to educa- tion, can be drawn from his life? THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 83 Do you think these suggestions unnecessary? I well remember the flat failure of a college senior in preparing a speech on Lincoln, — a speech he very much wanted to make good. He could not •'get going." He failed simply because he did not know how to work and did not begin by saturating himself with Lincoln and mulling over the material. He was not unique in his method or failure. Imagination in preparation, Throughout the prepara- tion, but increasingly as you proceed, utilize imagina- tion, ^ Hha instrument of reality." See in your mind's eye the persons, things, acts, and conditions with which you deal. If you are trying to understand a person, vizualize him as clearly as you can ; not as a mere homo, but as tall, sandy-haired, ruddy-complexioned, wearing a sack suit, etc. And you should acquire the needed in- formation for imagination to work upon. Also, you must give imagination time to work. Encourage sound images, if sound has a part in the reality you are con- sidering, — as in treating of a battle. Give free rein to your motor imagery. Sometimes you can best realize a situation by imaginatively putting yourself into it, tak- ing part in its action and conversations. Sometimes a single image will suffice; again you will be helped by elaborating a situation in detail, even working out a sort of drama. Sometimes it is important that the imagery be as true as possible to fact, as when an engineer is striv- ing to make clear to himself and to his audience of capi- talists, the situation of a proposed water power; but more often it is sufficient that imagination build forms approximately and essentially true to reality, true in im- pression. In no case should imagination be permitted to produce what is essentially untrue. To be more concrete and specific, let us return again to your speech on Lincoln. You will readily find numerous pictures and descriptions from which you can construct 84 PUBLIC SPEAKING his appearance. There is also a wealth of anecdote about Lincoln, touching every phase of his life, the most ordi- nary features as well as the most important; and these will enable you to know the man. And you must know him as a man in order to understand him as an orator or as a statesman. You can come to know how he acted, how he talked, the changes of his countenance from mirth to sorrow ; to know him, in short, so that were it possible for you to meet him in the flesh, you would feel like say- ing, ^^Good morning, Mr. Lincoln!" Let us have no mistake about this : I do not mean that you should merely know certain facts about Lincoln, but that so far as your peculiar mentality permits, you should realize Lincoln; not merely know that his face would change from mirth as he told a story to sadness as he felt again the burden of the war, but see the change take place. I have emphasized getting acquainted with Lincoln, because the personal aspect is most liable to be neglected by the beginner. You will, of course, try to realize the great situations in which Lincoln was placed. Suppose you are studying him as a speaker : after you have some knowledge of his career as a whole and have acquired personal acquaintance with the man, you may take up the data relating to his early speeches. You may see him making speeches on a literal stump, while the other hands hoe the corn; you may hear him at the village store, telling stories, arguing politics, and gaining some- thing of his later power to hold attention, to make clear arguments and to expose fallacies. You may see him pouring over scanty documents of American history ; and later arguing with consummate logic and eminent fair- ness in the courts. If you are giving special attention to the Lincoln-Douglas debates, you cannot understand these or feel their significance unless you first understand THE SPEAKER^S ATTENTION 85 and feel the situation in state and nation into which they fitted. You will wish also to realize the immediate set- tings of those debates. See the places in which he spoke, take your place upon the platforms, gay with flags ; look over the groves, the people who come driving ten and twenty miles in farm wagons, frontiersmen and children of frontiersmen, making a holiday, but yet serious in their realization of the crisis, thinking men and women who can rise to the high level of argument to which Lin- coln calls them. I cannot carry this farther without taking undue space. The events can be found vividly pictured for us by biographers and in historical fiction.i You may study the First Inaugural Address, the Gettysburg Address, the Second Inaugural and Lincoln's other speeches as you have the debates. You will see that in all this work you will need facts and more facts ; but quite as much, judgment and imagi- nation to enable you to get at the truth and to realize the truth about Lincoln. With such study as is sug- gested you can develop such a conception that you will be able to speak of Lincoln with a verity and a personal interest that will go far toward putting you on an equal- ity with those who knew Lincoln face to face ; perhaps, with a more just estimate. Preparing a more abstract subject. If one is speaking on such a subject as arbitration, the teachings of this chapter are still more needed. The young speaker is prone to deal with such subjects with too little basis in concrete facts ; and consequently too shallow understand- ing and interest. Having but a second-hand enthusiasm 1 See, for example, Churchill's novel, The Crisis. Herndon gives bn intimate view of Lincoln, his law partner, but is not always reliable. For a basis of study take the large work of Nicolay and I Hay. You may well read also general histories of Lincoln's*^ time ! and the lives of his contemporaries in order to correct the views gained from his partizans. 86 PUBLIC SPEAKING for arbitration, or worse, a mere hope that the topic will do for a speech, with scanty data drawn from a shoddy magazine article, he makes but a conventional, and prob- ably a muddy, speech. A man of large knowledge of history and long diplomatic experience, like Andrew D. White, will find little trouble in fixing his mind on arbi- tration. For such a one there are so many phases, rela- tions, applications, so many men who have advocated or condemned, Hague conferences, signs of the times, — such a wealth of thought material that the tof ic is likely to tyrannize over attention. The young speaker has no such advantage ; but by proper handling of the material which he can find, he can change arbitration from an uncertain object of attention, drifting for lack of mooring in his mind, into a strong, clear concept. Again, he should make his preliminary analysis of the subject, his search for information and the opinions of others, and sift, compare and relate, until he has a well organized body of experience and clear ideas. Again, he should link his new ideas to his established interests, in politics, in economics, in social science, in morals, in religion ; and in these fields to his special interests, as in eugenics. And again he should transmute the lifeless data into living forms. By true imagination he should realize the effects of war, upon the battlefield, in the homes of the people, in exhaustion of resources, and in deterioration of character ; and no less should he realize the working of his proposed plan. Given this sort of preparation, carried out in sufficient detail, a young man can earn the right to speak; and he will speak with neither listlessness nor declamation, but with grasp and sincerity. I take pleasure in inserting here another paragraph from the examination paper quoted before in this chapter. We may note THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 87 that the writer has in mind a considerable knowledge of the pyra- mids, that this knowledge has been linked to his dominant interest, engineering, and that his imagination has done what he says it should do. ^'Suppose we were making a speech on the Construction of the Pyramids of Egypt. . . . We may never have even seen them. However, if we bring imagination into play, we can picture the vast armies who built them, the huge, cumbersome carts used in carrying the stones, the hundrexis of sweating, babbling slaves who were made to haul them, the harsh overseers who drove the slaves on to work, the inclined planes up which the stones were dragged by sheer might ; and in time we could make the whole scene be so real to us that we could almost imagine ourselves to be the designers and engineers. In this way the subject would be made alive to us, and when we talked it would be with the conviction that we were talking on something we knew about from our own experience^ and not something taken out of a few dusty old books and here merely something to talk about." Expression during preparation. In working over your material, a method you will naturally employ to some extent is to be encouraged, — that of talking and writing on the subject. Write out your ideas quite regardless of the final form they are to take. If you write from several different angles at different times, so much the better. As you learn a forest by going through it in many directions, so you may learn a subject. To change the figure, make many different cross sections. Some will find talking the subject through to the imagined audience better than writing. The disadvantage of talk- ing is that it is likely to be less clear and orderly than writing. On the other hand, talking helps one more to feel the audience in advance ; and also the talks are not preserved. The early written drafts ought to be put resolutely in the fire. Work not wasted. It matters not that much you have learned and thought out cannot be used in your speech ; no truth learned need be considered useless, though some truths are more impoTtant than others and more perti- nent to your purpose. All go to build up the concept in your mind. You gain in mastery as well as in inter- 88 PUBLIC SPEAKING est, and become able to speak with a clearness, a sense of proportion, a discrimination, and an earnestness which constitute the charm of a speaker who is ''full of his subject,'' as contrasted with one of shallow knowledge. We cannot always explain an impression, which never- theless grows upon us as we listen, that a speaker has nothing back of what he says, that he has exhausted his fund. "That man," said a keen student of a young lecturer, "seems to me to pump himself dry every day ; he has to fill up again over night." In contrast, I have a friend who, v^hen he talks of medi- eval history, seems to be quite as much at home as in this present age ; and he speaks of historical characters as of intimates of whom he might tell us no end of good stories. He makes even an ig- noramus interested. A Princeton graduate tells of a lecture in which Professor Wood- row Wilson was saying to his class that Gladstone could make any subject of interest, even a four-hour speech on the "budget." "Young men," exclaimed the professor, "it is not the subject that is dry; it is you that are dry I" Not unrelated to Gladstone's power of interesting audiences are the facts that he had wonderful stores of knowledge on a great diversity of subjects, and that he had also a remarkable ability in "getting up" a special topic. We all like to hear the speaker who has known the hero he eulogizes, or has been through the experience he describes, or has fought for the cause he advocates ; be- cause, as we say, ''his subject means something to him." There is a sense of reality and a ring of earnestness rather than forced interest. It is in experience that the older speaker has an advantage over the younger, whose flashy enthusiasm is much less impressive than the quieter words of the veteran. This advantage cannot be entirely overcome ; but the man who knows and who is in earnest will be listened to whatever his age. Give time to your work: begin early. ''The longer one does attend to a topic, the more mastery of it one has." We have considered at length the means of prolonging THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 89 and developing attention. It remains to be said that not only the time spent in actual work counts, but also the mere length of time you carry your topic in mind. Select your topic as early as possible and give it time to **bud and sprout and grow, ' ' time for the relationships to clear up, and for the processes of assimilation to complete themselves, give time for the ^^unconscious cerebration," or in homely phrase, for the matter to *^soak in"; and especially give time for imagination to work. We may appropriate what Oliver Wendell Holmes makes the Autocrat say i of conversation : *'Talk about those subjects you have had long in your mind. . . . Knowledge and timber should n't be used till they are seasoned.'* When you have put an idea in your mind and return to it after an interval, *'you do not find it as it was when acquired. It has domiciliated itself, so to speak, — become at home, — entered into relations with your other thoughts, and integrated itself with the whole fabric of the mind." There is another good reason for starting early in the fact that once we have set our minds for a certain topic, materials and ideas seem to flow to us from every direc- tion. They existed all about us before, of course, but we did not notice them. We find articles and books on the subject when we are looking for other matter, and from the commonest experience we may draw a valuable illustration. Good illustrations are highly important in speech-making and exceedingly hard to find when wanted. Other materials we usually can find by systematic search, but the right illustration may elude us. If we discover early what sort of illustrations we need, we have a better chance to find them by good luck. We should begin early, also, that we may the better criticize our own work. We all know that after strug- gling over a piece of composition, or other constructive work, we are not immediately in a position to judge it. 1 The Autoci-at at the Breakfast Table, p. 138. 90 PUBLIC SPEAKING Put it aside for a time, and we are better able to *'size it up/' And we shall find that it is with extreme difficulty that we get any genuine criticism except our own. Failure to begin speeches early is one of the common- est causes of poor speaking, especially in class work. Students often feel that it is all the same if they put in the due amount of work in a hurry as late as possible ; but they deceive themselves. In the hastily prepared speech there is lack of assimilation, of clear order, of sureness of touch, of the sense of reality. Moreover, the speaker who has hurried his work at the end will be nervous, and will lack good control of his thoughts. Whatever amount of time you have for the preparation of a speech, use part of that time as early as possible. You will get a better return on the time and energy spent. These teachings are practical. '^But,'' demands a voice, '^how much time do you think we can give to the preparation of a short speech ? We have something else ^0 do!'' I beg your pardon; I thought you wished to make a good speech, the best you are capable of. Of course, those who wish to learn how to make a speech with nothing to say, have no use for the doctrines of this chapter. I have been speaking of thorough-going prepa- ration. It is true that such preparation may take a long time. When great speeches have been made with apparently little preparation, as in the classic instance of Webster's Reply to Hayne, they have really sprung ' from years of study, discussion and experience, in which materials have been amassed. Young man," Webster is reported to have said to a conceited youth, 'Hhere is no such thing as extemporaneous acquisition." Not only have materials been amassed, but, what is quite as important for the purpose, they have been formulated over and over again, and in different ways. THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 91 Grady, we are told, rose to make his speech on the New South, whiiih gave him fame in a night, without knowing what he would say. In the first place, one simply does not believe Grady so foolish as to come to this important event without careful thought of matter, arrangement and form of expression. He probably left until the occasion decisions in regard to which of certain points and illustrations were best suited to the spirit of the hour, how serious he might be, how strong and open his appeal ; it may be that with his experience he trusted in part to the moment for the phrasing of his thoughts. But as to what he wished to do and what means he had to use, he was no doubt clear in advance. In the second place, Grady had been thinking, writing and speak- ing on his subject all his life. It was the one topic to dominate the thought of a man of his temperament and generation in the South. His position as editor of an influential Southern daily also kept him discussing this theme. It is true that speakers unprepared may sometimes have brilliant inspirations, just as one may sometimes find gold when only out for a walk ; but usually inspira- tions come to those who make ready for them. They are the product of preparation. We find on investigation that most of the stories of unprepared successes are apoc- ryphal. They are like the stories of the brilliant passing of examinations without preparation. The thing is done; but nine stories out of ten are, not to be harsh, brag, and the other case is not a safe precedent for the average student. Granted that the foregoing suggestions cannot be car- ried out ideally in all cases, still it is better to know what can be done, in order that w^e may work wdsely and not fail to work for lack of knowledge of something to do. After all, much can be done even in a short time, by working on the right lines. We may not be able to be- come specialists on all our themes, though that would be desirable ; yet we may approach the specialist in having a considerable body of knowledge and in having this well analyzed and synthesized. We should note, too, that it is better to make a few good speeches than many 92 PUBLIC SPEAKING poor ones. If we cannot have some degree of mastery of our topics, we had better keep still. There are several encouraging features. In the first place, the class of speakers for whom this book is written, having lived a considerable number of years, should not be entirely empty-headed or without experience. They should begin with their established interests, the things they know about. To return to Lincoln, Americans of college age should know a good deal of American history, should understand something of the great struggle be- tween the North and the South, and they should know a good deal about Lincoln. So they should have a pretty good foundation to build upon. Unfortunately many college students have very little historical knowledge; but there are thousands of good subjects, and many of these are very close to the interests of young men. Gen- erally the topic one does know about and is interested in, or some offshoot of it, will serve for a speech. (See chapter on Selecting the Subject.) But, as was said before, even if one must take a theme for which he has little foundation, still the case is not hopeless. One should in any case choose a subject worth thorough study for its own sake, and thus secure a double return for the work done. This does not mean the sub- ject must have to do with the foundations of the earth ; but still it should be something one will be glad to know about later. Another encouraging circumstance is that not every speech need be made in a new field. Any subject has many phases, any one of which is likely to prove more than sufficient for a speech, provided the speaker is well informed. The desire to range superficially all over a large subject is evidence of ignorance. Having spoken on one phase of a subject, next time the speaker may take THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 93 another phase of the same subject, and he will find that the previous study proves helpful. Knowledge, mastery and interest will grow ; the speeches will be better and the incidental culture greater than if one touches superficially many fields. This presumes, of course, that the speaker will make real progress each time he speaks, and not gc on repeating on the basis of his first preparation. A man may do a great deal of speaking throughout a long career, without tiresome repetition, yet use but few themes and those related. Nearly all that Webster said in his many speeches, if we except those incidental to his law practice and the routine business of the Senate, and including much in those, could be grouped around one theme, The Constitution. A man gains more reputation and pro- duces more effect by limiting his range. On the platform. So far we have dealt with prepara- tion, though the effect upon delivery has been one of the objects in view. When preparation is right, the prospect for good delivery is encouraging. It has become possible, even probable. It is nearly always true in speaking that, in the phrase quoted from Helmholtz, other powerful impressions are attracting us away." The clearer our understanding and the stronger the hold of our ideas on our attention, the easier it is to think on our feet and to speak our words with full and definite ^^consciousness of meaning.'' Stage fright is far less likely to attack one whose thought is clear and vivid and based upon ample foundations. .While the preparation urged in this chap- ter does not insure talking with the audience," yet a well developed interest and the feeling of having some- thing to say, are likely to create a strong desire to reach one 's hearers. Imagery during* delivery. Just how much imagery there should be in a speaker's mind during delivery, no 94 PUBLIC SPEAKING one can say ; but we can say that, while imagery should not be forced, it should be encouraged for the sake of added vividness. If the sentences deal with objective realities, persons, objects, events, then a great deal of imagery should be present; for one can surely describe better to others what he himself images. Moreover, ab- stractions can be translated into concrete forms, and this translation is often needed. Such a sentence as this from Carlyle (see selection at end of Chapter XIV, en- titled Await the Issue), ''One strong thing I find here below, the just thing, the true thing,'' may need some image like that of a rock defying the sea, in order that the speaker may get the feeling of assured strength that the sentence contains, — the same effect we get from an expressed metaphor. Imagery enhances feeling. Of course, much that has come into mind during preparation must drop out, having served its purpose of putting meaning and feeling into our ideas and words. There should be no attempt to force the mind as one speaks to form some particular image, unless for the purpose of iaccurate description. The mind should be left as free as circumstances permit ; but if in preparation the ' 'thought movement" has been gone through repeatedly, with ap- propriate and helpful imagery encouraged and inappro- priate and distracting imagery inhibited, imagination will tend to be helpfully active during delivery, especially if the speaker is duly deliberate. In practice speaking before public appearance, one may well chfinitely strive for the formation of distinct and appropriate mental imagery. Staleness. When one has to repeat a speech several times, he should find it growing in interest and improv- ing in expression. This will be true if his knowledge grows and his thinking continues. But if one does find THE SPEAKER'S ATTENTION 95 himself stale, the best way to freshen interest is to repeat the steps of the original preparation, going over the data, the analyses, the concrete situations, utilizing imagination; and also finding new data, new illustra- tions, new applications, combining the new with the old and doing more thinking. Very easily this could be done to-day with speeches on peace and war. Often it is best to prepare a new speech, approaching the subject from a new angle, and thus avoiding the dangers of new wine in old bottles and new patches on old cloth. The process will compel fresh thinking, and that is what is needed. Often a student in preparing for a speaking contest begins to lose interest in his speech. He is sure to do so if his preparation has not been genuine, if it has been too much a matter of form and is not based on conviction. The standard prescription is : Go fill yourself with the subject ; read about it, talk about it with those who know; forget your speech and ponder your subject until you really want to speak because you have a message. If the speech will not bear this treatment, or if the student is not capable of following the advice, his case is hopeless ; though he may make a very pretty speech. Conclusion. In this and in the preceding chapter I have put great stress upon a truism, — that a speaker should have__a jnastery of ^^^^^^^^^^^ speaks^' Perhaps as an abstract proposition, few would question this truth ; but practically the need for emphasis is great. Truisms often suffer neglect. There are a few whose am- bition it is to ^succeed in public speaking by mere tricks of delivery and a few smart sayings. There are many who, though sincere, yet do practically ignore the truism, through both indolence and training. Prom the lower grades up, they have been copying matter from books, with a little condensing and rearranging, but with little assimilation, and handing it in to satisfy the unceasing 96 PUBLIC SPEAKING demand for compositions and ^'papers." The emphasis ' here put upon the principles and methods of preparation is due to long experience in attempting to teach college students to speak in an interesting, elfective and sincere way. CHAPTER V EMOTION We should now give special attention to a subject that is much involved in Chapters III and IV; that is, feeling or. emotion. For our purposes we may disregard the psychologist's distinction between these words. U-^tmportance of emojjii^. One often meets a prejudice against tfe^C^v^y^'l^wds feeling and emotion. This is due in part to a misuse of them. The prejudice is often really against excessive emotion, against control by emo- tion in defiance of reason, or against the over-free ex- pression of emotion. Perhaps a better word to express the thing objected to is sent imentality,\ 'Emotion is a constant factor in our mental states, unless we reach absolute indifference. To be withou emotion, indeed, is to be without interest, without frappiness as we\l as With- out sorrow, without desires gppd &r bad. ]gve^ourj:M— s sonsareusually emotions^. Whether we act for the sake oF^^faP^^wSi^^ for love of country, whether we seek selfish pleasure or die for a friend, whether we decide for short life and a merry one" or for a moral, temperate career, and whether we do our work or go to the game, — in all cases we act, if we are acting Jbeyond the range of habit, under the control of emotion. It makes no difference that we may call our emotion a reason or a motive. Even the man who prides himself most on living the life of reason must, if he be a true philosopher, be led by one master emotion, — ^love of 97 98 PUBLIC SPEAKING truth. We should fix in our minds the fact that emo^ tion, as such, is neither good nor bad ; that a particular emotion may be good or bad. Also, emotions may be violent, moderate, or weak in their expression. The man who loses himself in the study of minerals may be as truly emotional as one who cheers for Alma Mater. Emotion has no necessary relation to either whoops or tears. Emotion and sincerity. To say the spe ^ker should feel as well as think, is not to say that he must be senti- m-cntal, or speak with tears in his voice,'' or exhibit any extreme whatever, except in the rare instances when extreme expression is the fitting response to the ideas expressed and the situation faced. On the other hand, when a speaker represses himself for fear of being insin- cere, he forgets that the pretense of indifference is no less insincere than the pretense of feeling. We should not only mean what we say, but say what we mean ; and this includes emotion as well as thought. Sincerity de- mands responsiveness to the moods and feelings ex- pressed. It does not ordinarily demand excitement in expression, for ordinarily one is not expressing excite- ment. Sincerity is usually calm though earnest; but there are times when calmness is the worst of affectations. Self-control is good and necessary : but indifference and repression are not only insincere^ they mean failure as a speaker. Even though the subject-matter be as cold as a demonstration in geometry, the speaker should not be indifferent. There is always at least one appropriate emotion, — the desire to reach one's hearers. In the na- ture of things, few speeches are cold; they deal for the most part with warm human interests and range through the whole gamut of emotions. j Emotion necessary to the speaker. A speaker should < EMOTION 99 feel what he says, not only to be sincere, but also to be effective. It is one of the oldest of truisms that if we wish to make others feel, we ourselves must feel. And it is frequently important to a speaker that he should make others feel, make them care about the causes he presents and desire the end he seeks. We know we do not respond with enthusiasm to an advocate who lacks enthusiasm. And quite apart from response, we do not like speakers who do not seem to care. We like the man who means what he says. Emotion not to be assumed. It may be that some actors go through their parts cold; and we may even admire the more their consummate skill. But a speaker is not an actor ; he is not playing a part. He is expressing him.- self; and the suspicion that he does not care about what he is saying, that he is not sincere, is fatal to his influ- ence. And if a speaker is not sincere, he is almost sure to betray himself. There are subtle effects upon voice, the tones and the accent, which only the most skilled actor can control, but which the simplest man can feel. There is a man, rather prominent in public life for many years, who is called a great orator. Nature gave him a voice of such quality that his mere '^Ladies and Gentle;.,-^ [men'' sends a thrill through his hearers.' He has held many"5i audience spellbound for hours; yet his influ- ence has been notably small. It has rapidly dmndled as his reputation for insincerity has grown; for even though one may trick an audience once or twice, he cannot continue to deceive. For the average speaker, lacking a high degree of skill, deception is impossible. It is true that we sometimes hear men delivering with seeming earnestness, truths with which their practice does not square; but the contradiction is more apparent than real. Men often do believe earnestly in virtues which they do not practise. The drunkard, when sobered up, believes, and no one has better reasons for be- 100 PUBLIC SPEAKING lieviDg, in the virtue of temperance. Men rarely speak with a tone of conviction without, at least for the time being, believing what they say. Of course, no intelligent hearer is deceived by mere loudness of tone, redness of face, or extravagance of gesture. And, of course, no honest man will desire to gain the skill to de- ceive successfully. Can a speaker command his feelings? Feelings are most difficult of control. They will not bear watching; nor can they be commanded in the sense that one can say, ' ^ Go to, now, this is a patriotic occasion ; I will therefore feel patriotic ! ' ' What then is the speaker 's case ? Must he wait till feeling comes along to move him out of his indifference ? This would do, perhaps, if he could speak always on great occasions, or before inspiring audiences ; but he cannot. Nor does he speak just when he feels like it; but most often on some conventional occasion, often without any inspiration, without any initial in- spiration, at any rate, from occasion or audience. He looks into faces which at best express only mild curiosity. Consider the faces with that ^'do-your-duty-and-go to- church" expression which the average preacher has to confront. On most occasions, if there is to be life, inter- est and enthusiasm, the speaker must arouse them. There are, of course, audiences and occasions which stimulate the speaker, but these are the exceptions. Again, while the speaker usually does well to begin quietly, still he must be thoroughly alert and prepared in spirit at the start; he cannot afford to waste the initial interest of his hearers. What, then, can he do to prepare himself emotionally for his address ? He can refrain from repressing his feelings. Many a young speaker will find by introspection that by a feigned indifference, assumed to cover embarrassment or because of a foolish fear of being thought to '^put on," or by a habit of repression, he is actually killing off his emotions EMOTION 101 -Express emotion and it grows; repress it and it dies. ^ He can positively encourage emotion: by physical means. Instead of repressing his tendencies to feeling, the speaker should arouse himself, throw off the air of indifference and take on alertness. ^'Setting-up exer- cises," and especially deep breathing, give a good start. Physical earnestness is an important condition of mental earnestness. This is beyond dispute. The James-Lange theory of emotions. The statements of the two preceding paragraphs find support in the theory which holds that '^the feeling, in the coarser emo- tions,, results from the bodily expression." To quote Professor James : ^ — ^'Common-sense says, we lose our fortune, are sorry and weep ; we liieet a bear, are frightened and run ; we are insulted by a rival, ^re angry and strik^. . . . The more rational statement i^, that we feel sorry because we cry, angry because we strike, afraid because we tremble. . . . Stated in this crude way, the hypothesis is pretty sure to meet with immediate disbelief." But Professor James proceeds to give an argument, too long and technical to be quoted here, which has convinced many. The theory that the emotion is ''nothing but the feeling of a bodily state, and it has a purely bodily cause," is difficult to demonstrate by ex- periment; for 2 "the immense number of parts modified . . . makes it so difficult for us to reproduce in cold blood the total and integral expression of any one emotion. We may catch it with the voluntary muscles, but fail with the skin, glands, heart, and other viscera." Now, if the theory be true, a corollary should be that any vol- untary manifestation of an emotion should give us the emotion itself. ^ Briefer Course, y. oTr>. -I dent, p. oTS. 0 102 PUBLIC SPEAKING ^ ' ' Everybody knows how panic is increased by flight, and how the giving away to the symptoms of grief or anger incre^ises the passions themselves. ... In rage, it is notorious how we ^work ourselves up' to a climax by repeated outbursts of expression. Refuse to express the l^assion and it dies. Count ten before venting your anger, and its occasion seems ridiculous. Whistling to keep up courage is no mere figure of speech. On the other hand, sit all day in a moping posture, sigh, and reply to everything with a dismal voice, and your melan- choly lingers. ,There is no more valuable precept in moral education than this, as all w^ho have experience know; if we wish to conquer undesirable emotional tend- encies in ourselves, we must assiduously, and in the first instance cold-bloodedly, go through the outward move- ments of those contrary dispositions which we prefer to cultivate. The reward of persistency will infallibly come, in the fading out of the sullenness or depression, and the advent of real cheerfulness and kindliness in their stead. Smooth the brow, brighten the eye, contract the dorsal rather than the ventral aspect of the frame, and speak in a major key, pass the genial compliment, and your heart must be frigid indeed if it do not gradu- ally thaw." Did yon never begin to speak mildly your displeasure, and sud- denly flame out into denunciation ; or to express approval and find yourself running into extravagant praise? "I didn't mean to say all that," you explain ruefully, **but my tongue ran aw^ay with me." And do v^e not all know how laughing freely increases one's sense of humor? It should be said that this theory of emotion has not been generally accepted in its entirety, though most psychologists admit it contains a large measure of truth. It undoubtedly contains an important suggestion for us, seen especially in the last quotation from James. We have some control over our feelings, in a ph^'-sical way; we can at least prepare for them and encourage thetn, I Briefer Course, p. 382. EMOTION lOS Action and expression increase emotion. Act bold and we shall tend to feel bold; act interested and we shall tend to feel interested. But perhaps the most valuable lesson we can draw from our consideration of the relation of action and bearing to emotion, is just this : By means largely physical one can bring himself out of indifference and establish a mood of alertness and responsiveness to the emotions of one's speech. The speaker can develop emotion from ideas. Having gained a valuable suggestion from the James-Lange the- ory of emotion, we are still glad we do not have to accept it fully, but may retain our belief that emotions spring directly from perceptions an A ideas. To what extent these may arouse emotions in a given instance, depends of course upon what they are, upon what we are and upon how they are related to our experiences; and also upon how vivid, recent and oft repeated these experi- ences have been, and upon the way in which the ideas are presented to our minds. The more concrete their present tation and the more vivid their imagery, the more ideas tend to arouse emotion. In other words, emotion will be the'natural result of much of the work urged in the two preceding chapters, which might well be reviewed at this point with the thought of emotion in mind. The term associiations will prove useful in this connec- tion. We may say that the feeling which is aroused by a word or an idea depends greatly upon the associations one's mind has for it; upon what has been attached to it by observation, study and experience. Home, flag and mother are examples of words notably strong in emo- tional associations and therefore tending to arouse vivid imagery and strong feeling. It is evidence of their force that the words instanced are greatly overworked for the purpose of evoking feeling. 104 PUBLIC SPEAKING It should be plain from the preceding chapters that we are not limited to actual experience for associations. To the youth who has lived the ordinary protected life, the idea of justice has little emotional significance. He will tell you he knows what it means, that he believes in jus- tice for all, he will readily subscribe to any maxim about justice; yet the idea has little meaning for him and his voice lacks the ring of conviction. But suppose he has suffered injustice, or is of a people that has suffered in- justice ; then the idea will possess him and he will speak with an accent that leaves no doubt of sincerity. I have in mind students from Porto Rico and the Philippines, who believed their countries wronged by the United States. But suppose, again, the youth has been stirred by the wrongs of others and has fought for justice to an individual or a class: then also the idea may command him. Or, again, let us suppose he has read history until the long struggle for human rights has become real to him : then, again, though the interest may not be so keen and enduring, it may still be commanding. What to do. Go over the thought material of which your speech is composed, considering the importance of the issues involved, their jjractical bearings, illustrations from history and experience, especially those warm with human interest ; bring the matter home to yourself in the most familiar and intimate way. Imagination has a great part to play here ; for it is the spring of sympathy, — the means of ''putting yourself in, the other fellow's place. " B^T^ means of visual, auditory and motor imagery put yourself into the very situation discussed, and you will feel the struggle, the triumph, or whatever emotion the situation contains. In general, do the work outlined in the preceding chapter. Analysis and feeling. It is desirable that there should EMOTION 105 be some interval between the analytic part of one's prep- aration and the delivery of the speech. The analytic frame of mind is cold, for analysis is largely a process of abstraction; and abstraction has as little as possible to do with words of vivid imagery and emotional associa- tion. The speaker should be able to make a cold, clear analysis of his subject; but he should pass from this stage of \YOvk to another in which he feels as well as un- derstands his ideas. The time element. In considering feeling we are again impressed with the need of taking time in preparation. Feeling is not to be coerced ; it is to be developed from the thought as it is worked over and assimilated. Only through assimilation can there be genuine feeling, with the requisite self-forgetfulness and abandon. When a man speaks out of earnest feeling without prolonged special preparation, as in the case of Grady referred to in the preceding chapter, it will be found that back of the speech lies long experience. Balance of thought and feeling. A speaker who makes his study of Lincoln, arbitration, or the ^^honor system,'" in the ways before urged, will not lack sincere feeling. At the same time, since the work outlined will give grasp of his subject, he will not be unduly swayed by feeling. The ideal condition of the speaker demands strong feel- ing controlled by clear thinking. But this is the condi- tion which makes a man strong in all sorts of activities, — feeling for motive power, thought to control and direct. The mental machine is useless if either is lacking. The hours immediately preceding delivery. When a speaker is to make an effort," he should take pains to . come upon the platform physically and mentally fit. He should, if possible, have a pleasant restful day, Vith enough occupation to keep him from worrying. He 106 PUBLIC SPEAKING should not tire himself witJi a great deal of exercise. Well-meaning friends and committeemen who may wish to entertain with sight-seeing or heavy dinners, should be firmly discouraged. Each speaker should learn, by observing his experience, what course of action is best calculated to bring him on the platform with energy on tap and nerves at peace; and to avoid whatever in the way of eating, drinking, or smoking is likely to make his mind sluggish or his voice husky. It is generally best to avoid eating within two hours of the time of speaking. Some will find it to their advantage to spend the time immediately preceding the speech, say the last hour, in special preparation. They may need to bring themselves to physical alertness, to gain poise and command. Exer- cises will aid in this ; and especially deep -breathing exer- cises will do much to check nerv^ousness (for they demand good control of the nerves), to relieve throat constric- tion and to help the speaker ^'find his voice.'' Such exercises take a speaker's mind off his worries, if he has any. Nervousness over speaking is not due so much to the fact that public speaking is such a fearsome thing in itself, as to worry about it. It is not desirable, however, that a speaker should be as cool as the proverbial cucum- ber; only that the necessary nervous tension should not be so great as to destroy self-control. And here we may make another application of the James-Lange theory: Let a man act as if he were courageous, alert, at ease, and he will tend to feel so. Often it is best to keep one's mind off one's speech during the day it is to be delivered ; and in particular to avoid fussing over its structure and wording. At times, it is helpful to read and think on the subject, ''pumping one's self full of it." This presumes, of course, that EMOTION 107 preparation has been completed. Shortly before speak- ing it may be a relief to run over the thought of one's speech to assure one's self that it is clearly in mind and to get into its mood. The conclusions and purposes of the speech should especially be considered to guard against yielding overmuch to the superficial aspects of the occasion. A colored student preparing to take part in a speaking contest, with a speech which was a plea for equal opportunity, kept saying, am not out for the prize; I am going to speak for my people." And he did, with great force and sincerity. Obviously there will be many circumstances under which some of the foregoing suggestions will be useless, or even unwise. But it is not unwise to take note of the fact that just as the athlete must not only know his game, but must come on the field in fit condition, so should the speaker not only know his subject, but also come upon the platform in condition to do his best. Emotional drifting during delivery. By drifting is meant continuing in one mood regardless of the character of the ideas expressed. The effect is as incongruous and monotonous as that produced by a certain fiddler who played always on one string. Many a speaker needs to guard against working himself into a strained, excited mood in which he gives neither himself nor his audience relief. The resulting monotony is as truly monotony as that of one who never warms up, or one who speaks always in a gently complaining mood. I have in mind a preacher of some note who, about five minutes from the end of his sermons, invariably drops into a low, sup- posedly solemn tone of exhortation, and this quite re- gardless of the character of his concluding remarks. Such habits are easily acquired, especially when one speaks often under the same circumstances. All such 108 PUBLIC SPEAKING tendencies are to be fought by keeping constantly alert on the platform. It is also well for a speaker to watch his speeches to see that he does not encourage such habits by writing always in one vein. If he extemporizes much the danger of following habit is still greater; and he should either occasionally write a speech or have a stenographer reveal to him his tendencies. Emotion of the audience. The treatment of this topic will be reserved for the chapters which deal with interesting, persuadir:;; and convincing audiences. The emotion of the speaker will also receive further treatment in those chapters. Gesture. It will be well, at this point, to take up the first part of the chapter on gesture (so far as the "Second Stage of Gesture Tnining"). The subject is closely related to emotion. CHAPTER VI ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE — INTEREST Turning now to the more definite consideration of audiences and the adaptation of speeches to their needs and capacities, we shall, in great part, be developing and re-applying principles already familiar in the preceding pages. Plainly enough, in dealing with audiences inter- est and attention are of primary importance; yet you may be surprised to learn how constantly these are the major considerations. No classification of topics in this discussion seems entirely satisfactory; but we shall find most helpful an analysis based upon the speaker's purposes. A sufficient reason is the opportunity this analysis offers for empha- sizing the fact that speakers have purposes. Importance of considering the speaker's purposes. Much poor work is done because the real purposes of public speech are forgotten, while primary stress is placed upon form. Form needs attention, but it can be safel}'' studied only in subordination to purpose. Stranga as it may seem, the audience is often forgotten. The results are affectation and ineffectiveness. "We must think of form always as a means to an end, — the impression de- sired upon the audience. But the trouble does not always arise from too. much attention to form; it may exist together with too great indifference to form. Self-centeredness is perhaps the chief reason for indifference to audiences. One who has 109 PUBLIC SPEAKING occasion to observe is often astounded at the indifference of speakers to the thoughts and feelings of their hearers. Presumably these speakers have a hazy purpose; but completely wrapped up in their own processes, intolerant of the opinions of others, lacking sufficient imagination for a sympathetic understanding of the kinds and condi- tions of men and of the motives which move them, they go their own way unaware of response or lack of response. Sometimes we say their speeches smell of the lamp,'' but the trouble is not that they have studied, but that they have failed to prepare with definite purposes and audi- ences in mind. If a speaker keeps clearly in mind that he is going before a certain kind of audience to seek cer- tain results, the chances are good that he will make a proper selection and arrangement of material, adopt a style of composition suitable for the platform and speak in a direct manner. The young speaker should take this exhortation to mind his audience very seriously. He is prone to think that his hearers will understand whatever he says, however complicated ; that they have no emotions, and that they will attend simply because he speaks. He rarely considers the best method of approach or of awakening interest. From the very first he should treat his class, if he is in a class, as a real audience, to be interested, convinced and persuaded ; and the class should listen as a real audience, not as a body of critics. The student should also embrace opportuni- ties to speak before other audiences, where the thought of manner will not be so prominent and where he may have a more real pur- pose to accomplish. There may be some with an almost instinctive knowledge of the nature of audiences. These, if sufficiently endowed otherwise, are the *'born orators." But most of us need to work out of our em- barrassment, our self-centeredness and our false notions, till there some day comes to us a sense of what speaking really means. Then by study of human nature and by practice, we may learn to in- fluence audiences. If through plenitude of endowment, persistent labor and right opportunity, we come to master audiences, we'shall be orators. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 111 What the speaker's purposes are. I shall consider the speaker's purposes to be: 1. To interest, 2. To make clear, 3. To induce 'belief, 4. To influence conduct. Now any one of these purposes may be a speaker's final object on a given occasion ; or may be a subsidiary purpose, a means to another end. Thus interest and clearness must be sought in any speech. In many instances belief must be won before conduct can be affected, and we shall find that in most cases the processes by which conduct is af-| fected must be employed before belief is established. Again, exposition and argument may be employed to in- terest- Interesting an audience. It seems strange that there is need of putting stress upon the necessity of interesting our audiences; yet we well know how common it is in conversation to talk on about our affairs, our ideas, our stupid adventures, our smart children, calmly ignoring the yawns of our hearers. This may explain why a stu- dent speaker will expound in detail before a class of juniors the peculiar advantages accruing to freshmen from subscribing to the college daily. An audience always holds it a natural right to be inter- ested ; often it asks nothing more. The speaker himself may at times have no purpose beyond interesting; that is, entertainment.^ More often the speaker has a pur- pose beyond this; but the demand for interest he must satisfy, for he must have attention. A ^'polite hearing" is rarely genuine ; and very few members of the average audience will listen by sheer will power, nor is it desir- 1 Entertainment has been made one of the general ends, and is an end proper enough. Phillips, who makes this classification {Effec- tive Speaking, p. 63), treats it only with the "factoid of interesting- ness." Interest is, of course, a much larger thing than entertain- ment. When we are interested in a pleasant way, with no serious urpose impressed upon us, we say we are entertained ; but we may e interested iu the most serious, even unpleasant, things. 112 PUBLIC SPEAKING able that they should. Applying Herbert Spencer's principle, ' ^ economy of attention, ' ' a speaker should aim to hold his hearers with a minimum of effort on their part ; for whatever energy goes into mere effort to attend is lost to consideration of the subject-matter. Another reason for seeking to interest is that few speakers are able to go energetically through a speech without evidences of re- sponse from their audience. Without such evidence one feels a great load on his spirits. It is sometimes worth while to take pains to interest a single person in order to have his sympathetic following; but unless a speaker has a majority of his audience fol- lowing with easy attention, he cannot often do well. When prac- tically the whole audience listens with keen interest he is drawn out in a wonderful way. Then he has "liberty." There are times when the speaker has the advantage of an aroused interest in his audience. There are times when he can rely on this interest, even abuse it : but such times are rare, and even strong initial interest is usually easily lost. I have seen 2000 eager listeners, come to- gether to hear a potential presidential candidate, bored into helpless irritation by an inept address. The young speaker will find few occasions indeed w^hen he can safely ignore the means of interesting. The speaker standing before his audience faces a very practical problem: How can he gain and hold atten- tion? No matter how noble his purpose, how splendid his rhetoric, how sound his arguments, if he is not listened to. There they sit, his potential hearers; presumably most of them are willing to be interested: but unless they are interested, they will think of their own affairs, isink into bored endurance, or become restless. The speaker must grip their attention, right at the start, and he must hold it. How can attention be won ? In the first place, it does little good to tell one's audience that the theme is inter- ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 113 esting. Young speakers are constantly defending their dull efforts with, ' ' They ought to be interested in that ' ' ; but the question remains, Are they interested ? Is it only the speaker of high prestige with his audience who can depend upon the assertion of interest, even for initial attention. We see at once that the question, What does interest audiences, is too complicated for brief and final answer. We can, nevertheless, establish a few principles and be- come intelligent in applying them to different situations. The most obvious suggestion is that we should have some- thing to say worth saying; something not necessarily of vital importance, but at least worth considering for a few moments. The occasions are but few when audi- ences are willing to listen to sheer nonsense. Fundamental interests. Certain interests common to most men, may be noted. When we speak of a man's interests we mean those things to which he gives his time, thought and labor ; not merely those things directly nec- essary to existence and success, but also those which give him pleasure, or otherwise enlist his emotions. We put first life and health. The vast deal of matter printed nowadays on health presumably supplies a demand. But it is probable that men in general are more willing to give attention to the acquirement of property than to prolong- ing life. The pocket-book interest is one of the surest to which a theme can be linked. This interest is not limited to one's own pocket-book, but extends to all business. Witness the number of business stories in popular peri- odicals. Men generally are interested in the means of acquiring power and reputation. But there are some who are still more Interested in what pertains to honor, to social ivel- fare, to the good of country and to righteousness, and to 114 PUBLIC SPEAKING other so-called sentimenis. Again, men are interested in what touches their affections, as the education of their children. They are interested in all that gives them pleasure, as sports, music, drama, literature. In short, men are interested in whatever they are interested in, whatever arouses emotion; and the most valuable sug- gestion is one which will grow increasingly familiar; study human nature, study your audience. The chief use of such an incomplete list as the above, is to impress upon the self -centered speaker the truth that men are many-sided in their interests.^ The human interest^ Carlyle says: *'Man is peren- nially interesting to man ; nay, if we look strictly to it, there is nothing else interesting." Terence, the old Roman playwright, brought forth thunderous applause with his line, *'I am a man, and all human affairs are of interest to me. ' ' The interest of humanity pervades, of course, history, fiction, drama, social science, and many another interest ; but still it is well to note that there is a strong interest in just folks," — men, women, children and babies. Personality, is always j nteresting. So a speaker may find it of advantage to throw his material into terms of persons, persons with names and character- istics. Hitch your cause to the man who represents it. A newspaper man of wide opportunity for observation, recently declared that the public is never interested in reform, but in its heroes and especially in its villains. Elihu Root has said, * * It seems sometimes as if our people were interested in nothing but personalities, and that we wanted a government of men and not a government of laws." Consideration of these fundamental interests does not . 1 Tliose familiar with Phillips* Effective Speaking will see that ll have drawn here upon his Impelling Motives. I ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 115 carry us far ; for we see that what will, in a given case, be interesting, will depend much upon audience and occa- sion and how and by whom the matter is presented. Differences in groups. No one is likely to overlook the fact that a group of farmers may be interested in topics very dull to laboring men, and that both farmers and laborers may be interested in themes which will not touch a body of artists; but there are less noticeable diver- gencies which are no less important. One may sometimes hear city men talking to farmers on the assumption that all farmers are alike ; yet fruit farmers may take no more interest than do artists in the tariff on wool. Speakers coming to our universities may be heard making painful efforts at classical allusions before engineering colleges. The obvious means of safety is to know your audience, its interests, its information and its habits of thought. I referred just now to a presidential possibility who bored an eager audience. We had gone to hear him because we wished to know what manner of man he was, what his opinions and his tendencies were. He chose to read to us a dry, impersonal survey of the origins of the common law, without an attempt to link this history to the present day. It was, he explained, a paper he had prepared for a law school lecture. It may have been adapted to a convention of legal historians. One reason for Mr. Roosevelt's success with audiences lies in his varied career, as son of an old New York family, Harvard student, politician, cowboy, historian, naturalist, hunter, traveler, rough rider, police commissioner, president and one forgets what else, — all giving him intimate knowledge of many kinds of peo- ple, of how they think, what their associations are, and what al- ' 1 lusions and illustrations will appeal to them. ^ Variations of the same group. At one time an audience of laboring men may be chiefly interested in a great rail- way siirike, again in the doings of the I. W. W., again in socialism, or the open shop. I do not mean to suggest that a speaker should always address his hearers on their 116 PUBLIC SPEAKING supreme interest of the moment ; but only that he should be alert to the possibilities arising from special occasions and occurrences. A group may have also great varia- tions of mood} A body of economists in convention as- sembled may in the morning wish to hear discussions of taxation ; in the evening at a banquet they may resent a heavy discussion. Ministers do not always wish to think of their duties; and college students may at times wish to hear of something other than athletics. Attention is caught by objects and ideas congruous with our present mood, be it sad, gay, business-like, critical, or what not . The speaker's relation to audience, occasion and theme. The audience may wish to hear a speaker upon a certain ^^itheme because of some special advantage he possesses, as having taken part in the movement he discusses. Almost any audience would like to hear Peary or Amundsen de- scribe their polar explorations, and yet might be greatly bored to hear one with no record of achievement speaking on the same subject, although he were well informed and actually giving a better lecture. Cornellians would not care to hear a freshman speak on the beginnings of the University ; but they would like very much to hear Cor- neirs first president, Andrew D. White, tell of events of which he might use the words of iEneas, **A11 of which I saw and part of which I was. ' ' A speaker should beware of attempting to discuss a subject of which he has little knowledge before a body of experts. If you have to give an address of welcome to a 1 Those who wish a scientific starting point for study in iy lake this from Pillsbiiry, Attention, p. 52: "The conditions (>i' lU act of attention are to be found in the present environment ( H'^' tive conditions) and in tlie past experiences of the individual ( -i hjtvtive conditions). The main objective conditions are the intcn i<\, ex- tent, and (Juration of the stimulus. The subjective condi' ^ ir- are to be found in the idea in the mind at the time, in the m- ' t.! the moment, the education, previous social environment, e^r ' i>'dity of the individual.** ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 117 convention of specialists, keep on safe ground. Do not think to make a hit by reading up in an encyclopedia. Probably what you read is to them exploded doctrine ; at any rate you are sure to expose your ignorance. Painful also are those attempts to retail the history of a town to its inhabitants. Even if the speaker knows the facts better than the inhabitants, still they may not wish to hear them from a stranger, though they may relish refer- ences which show that the speaker knows something of their history. In any case, the speaker does well to ask himself whether he is the right person to present the pro- posed topic, not only from the standpoint of preparation, but also from that of personal acceptability. A labor audience may not think you qualified to speak on the closed shop, no matter how much preparation you have ; and may even be prejudiced against hearing you, if, for example, they suspect you of hostility to unionism. The age of a speaker is often important in the minds of his audience. ^^The idea of that young thing trying to tell us how to bring up our children ! ' ' exclaim indignant matrons when a freshly ordained preacher essays this theme. There is a pride in knowing one's own affairs, ot the affairs of one's time, which may blind people to actual wisdom on the part of a speaker. Ringwalt i furnishes the following suggestive comment and in- cident : "A student may be better informed on a public question than a congressman, but the latter will get the invitation to speak ; what a man may be expected to know weighs heavily. A young student who had gained considerable reputation as a speaker, was asked, with a number of distinguished men, to respond to a toast of his 1 own selection at a banquet held on the birthday of Abraham Lin- coln. Had he chosen to speak on Lincoln's political career, he would have })een listened to with courtesy, but, by men who knew from experience the facts he related from histories, hardly with interest. He chose rather as his subject, 'Lincoln as a blaster of j English Style,' and scored the chief success of the evening. This 1 Modern American Oratory ^ p. 38, 118 PUBLIC SPEAKING was the one theme about which he not only knew more than his hearers, but about which they all realized he could know more." A student friend of mine was asked to address the Grand Army Post in his home village on Memorial Day. I will leave to you the questions : What should have been his theme, and how should he have treated it? The general audience. So far we have considered spe- cial audiences, homopreneous groups. The interests of the general audience are less dependable. The more heterogeneous an audience, the more difficult to control and to ''fuse'' its members into one mood. The jpB^SehPf, for e^gmn le. in his efforts to reveal the relation of religion to human needs, has a weekly problem hardly to be solved. Before him are children of very limited experience and understanding; people of the age of reliance on one's own strength, and those who have reached the stage where they feel peculiarly the need of support and consolation. Some preachers feel so keenly the disadvantage of an uninterested and restless element in the congregation, that they attempt a partial solution by preach- ing first a brief sermon to the children, who are then free to go home. To appeal to each element of a mixed audience in turn makes sustained interest on the part of all improbable; yet this is sometimes the only feasible method. Varied illustrations and applications may be needed to catch the interest, now of the business man, now of the women, now of the factory workers ; but all that is said should be at least intelligible to the great majority of those present, and no considerable time should pass in which any group is given nothing of interest. Sometimes a speaker of great prestige may venture to say frankly, ' ' Now I wish the rest of you to wait while I talk to these merchants"; but unless the other groups can have some sympathetic interest in this special discussion, they will soon grow restless. And if the speaker be ''talking over the heads" of any group, resentment may be aroused. If a speaker ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 119 in a college town especially addressed himself to the faculty members present, in a way which presumed them to be of superior intelligence, he might easily arouse the old town-and-gown hostility. Indefiniteness is not necessary. Though the appeal to the interest of a general audience must at times be very broad, still it need not be indefinite. Though one has an audience composed of scientists, workingmen, teachers, farmers, philosophers and social workers, still all men are alike in many ways, and have in one way or another the same needs and the same human experiences, just as all catch the measles. *'The Colonel's lady and Judy 0 'Grady are sisters, under their skins.'' The orator understands and shares the common human interests, and under all circumstances finds a common ground of interest and sympathy. The complaint is sometimes made that speakers indulge too much in commonplace and platitude. The charge is true, just as it is true of those who write and converse. But critics should not be too strict, in view of the necessity of finding a meeting place for all sorts of people. At the same time, speakers do well to re- lieve necessary commonplaces with freshness of form. In many cases, even with the most heterogeneous audi- ence, no preliminary search for a common ground is needed; for all may be already interested in the same political issue, the same application of a scientific discov- ery, the same story of heroism, the same sanitary regu- lation, or the same high cost of living. I have seen an audience as heterogeneous as that suggested above, all fused into one splendid enthusiasm for the support of Governor Hughes of New York, in his demand that the state constitution should be enforced against race-track gambling. Most of the members of the usual audience have much 120 PUBLIC SPEAKING in common in origin, tradition, prejudice, religion, ex- perience, association, politics, and general information. They live in the same community, or have been brought together by common interests, or by congeniality. They can be expected to recognize certain allusions, to think at a certain rate, to know certain facts, and to respond to certain appeals. One can hardly hope to reach every member of an audience. How far the attempt should be carried, to what level in one's audience and to how many elements a speech should be addressed, are ques- tions that cannot be answered except with reference to particular cases. We turn now to consider means of interesting which are more or less applicable to all audiences. Derived interest. If the principle is not fresh in your mind, you should turn back to Chapters III and IV, and especially you should re-read the quotation from James at p. 54. Just as teachers no longer begin geography with a discussion of the planetary system and gradually approach the child's place in it, but begin with phe- nomena already familiar to him, the towns, streams and islands he knovv^s; so speakers should start with that phase of their subject already known and interesting to their hearers, at the point where they '*have something to attend with." If the topic does not relate itself di- rectly to the existing interests of your audience, then connecting links must be supplied. When this is imprac- ticable, the topic is impracticable. It may be said, fur- ther, that unless a speaker has a strong reason for taking a topic far removed from the interests of his audience, the fact that he must t^^ke a considerable portion of his time for establishing a derived interest, will usually be a good reason for choosing another topic. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 121 The illustration in Chapter IV of a man going deliberately to work to interest himself in Greek archeology might easily be turned into a problem in interesting an audience. Work this out : Suppose your task were to interest a group of business men in excavations on the sites of Egyptian cities. Could you in any way utilize the religious interest? Where would you begin with the same group in interesting them in the peace movement? Problems of deriving interest arise every day in a public speak- ing class. If one is talking of, W^hat is the matter with the foot- ball team? no problem arises, but to use that sort of topic all the time proves limiting. A student of agriculture had some good ideas on the common complaint that too much time is spent upon teaching the theory of agriculture, and too little upon practical applications. TSvo-thirds of the class, not being students in agri- culture, evinced little interest. The speaker might have gained general interest by first taking the question up as one that arises in all courses, law, engineering, etc., and then proceeded to illus- trate with the course he knew most about. Another student of the same college wished to speak on the Grange ; but when asked the standard question. How will you interest all in that? he gave up. Yet there are phases of th^ Grange which would interest most of us; the cooperative principle, for example, or the Grange in politics. Another wished to speak upon the growing of apples. He might have taken up the enormous business of marketing ap- ples, for business interests most students to-day ; but as he wished to take the technical phases, such as the composition of sprays, it did not seem worth while to make the far-fetched connection. Law students may fail to detach themselves from the law school atmosphere ; but one w^ho wished to practise legal discussion suc- ceeded in making his talk both interesting and tangible by using as a basis rooming contracts, a burning issue at the time. A student in architecture, speaking in a class including no others from his college, kept up interest in his favorite theme by select- ing illustrations from the campus buildings. The student of chem- istry who started with the keen interest in automobiles carried us far into a discussion of substitutes for gasoline. Even the hackneyed subject of capital punishment may get a new lease of life from the case of some noted criminal about to be executed. Ways of deriving interest. Sometimes the existing in- terests of your Hearers may be utilized by starting with one of these and leading into the desired topic, as by beginning with the present war and leading to interna- PUBLIC SPEAKING tional law, assuming that to be the topic in which you wish to arouse interest; sometimes by, beginning with a phase of one's topic which quickly shows its relation to an existing interest, as by taking a question of interna- tional law which is closely related to the war, e. g., blockades; and again, by one's selection of illustrations. By whatever method you choose to proceed, do not ask your audience to listen long without seeing how y6ur topic is related to something they consider interesting; and as you proceed you should continue to link the new matter to that already made interesting, **so that the interest, being shed along from point to point, finally suffuses the entire system of objects of thought." You may be able, also, to reach out, at various stages, and connect your ideas with other interests than those first touched. It is conceivable that in a single short speech, with perfect unity, you might enlist the interest which your hearers possess in athletics, in education, in tem- perance and in religion ; and the fusion of these interests would make a strong whole. One may think of each of these interests as throwing a rope to assist in mooring the new subject. Interest derived through illustrations. Examples of the common device of using illustrations which come peculiarly within the experience of one's audience, were given in the comments on class speeches above. A stump speaker addressing now farmers, now railroad men, now salesmen, will usually try to vary his illustrations to fit each group. However, we should not suppose that any class of people is interested only in its own specialties. Another warning is in order : do not try to draw illustra- tions from any field unless you are sure of your ground. Railroad men may like to hear you draw illustrations from their work, if you can do so easily and naturally ; ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 123 but they will be amused or bored by a strained attempt. Of a preacher who tried to talk to an audience of sailors in their own terms, one of his hearers said : There are two things he doesn't understand, navigation and re- ligion." Novelty and the interest of audiences. After the dis- cussion in Chapter III you will readily understand that while new things and new ideas are a source of interest, the strongest and most sustained interest arises from the union of old with new. Read again with care the quota- tion from Royce on p. 57 of this text, and that from James on p. 58. ''The old in the new is what claims attention. ' ' "When we present new ideas to an audience we should present them in such a way that their relation to familiar things is apparent, so that they may be com- pared or identified, or so that the relation of cause and effect or some other relation is evident; and when we present old matter we should give it new aspects, rela- tions and applications. A group of housewives may be interested in hearing an explana- tion of the familiar phenomenon of the rising of bread. I was much interested in learning from the speech of a student of archi- tecture of the considerable accomplishment of Thomas Jefferson as an architect ; while the student derived an interest in the statesman who was also an artist. Travel lectures have great vogue on Lyceum and Chautauqua platforms. They furnish a pleasant opportunity for comparing and contrasting, and discovering the familiar in the seemingly un- familiar. "What an odd way to do !'* we hear a listener say : that is, how different from our way of doing the same thing. "What a queer-looking place in that picture ! Why, it 's a kind of store, isn't it? • How interesting!" The following sentence, written of an Eastern country, illustrates the force of contrast with the fa- miliar : "It is a country where the roses have no fragrance, and women no petticoats; . . . where the roads bear no vehicles, and the ships have no keels ; where old men fly kites, . . . and the sign of being puzzled is to scratch the heel." 124 PUBLIC SPEAKING The familiar- While the absolutely familiar is said to be uninteresting, we should note that the very familiar is at times welcomed. Do we not love old songs and old stories? The question was recently asked, Why are so maiiy jokes made reflecting upon stenographers? and Harper's Weekly replied, ^'The world loves familiar jokes and familiar effects." At any rate, while I should be very sorry to encourage triteness, we must recognize the fact that there are times when people like to hear familiar ideas, and also like them put in a familiar way. Indeed, they may object to a departure from the old way, as children hold their entertainers to the very words of oft repeated stories. We know that partisan audiences love to gather on Jackson's birthday to hear again the familiar phrases in praise of party and party heroes. Gatherings of old soldiers never weary of their familiar themes and eulogies. It is said that the veterans from North and South at the great gathering on the field of Gettysburg in 1913, did not take kindly President Wilson's attempt to talk to them of the duties of the present. Their minds were full of the past. What is triteness ? In apparent conflict with the above is the fact that no complaint is more common or (iamn^n g than that a speech was trite, that its matter was stale, or wornout with much repeating. The complaint is evi- dently a demand for novelty. Plainly enough, it be- hooves a speaker to get a clear idea of triteness. I The reconciliation of this criticism with the liking for the familiar may be sought, first, in the kind of subject used in a given case. It may not have been one consid- ered important by the fault-finder. Some one has well said, **No truth ever is or can be trite to one who uses it.'' Old problems still pressing for solution do not be- come trite, though we may temporarily weary of them. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 125 The old, old negro problem can still be depended upon for an interesting discussion in my classes. Again, the subject may not have been one dear to the hearts of the audience. We may note that the themes which people love to hear about in the old way are those on which they have warm convictions and strongly emotional associa- tions. Secondly^ much depends upon the occasion. The old recital is especially welcomed at gatherings which awaken old and emotional associations. Then the old is congruous with the hearer's mood. The old soldiers gathered at Gettysburg are very different from the same men at home, with business uppermost in their minds. Political and religious meetings also arouse emotional associations and remove the critical spirit. As a student, summing up our discussion of this topic, once put it, ''Triteness is saying the old thing in the old way, at the !L^2£S.J^^^^~^^^ tru¥,T]iough not all the truth. Thirdly, the treatment of the old topic may have been dull, confused, or inferior to what the audience was ac- customed to. To fall below the expectation of the audi- ence, based on memory of other speakers, is especially unfortunate. Fourthly, much depends upon the pre- sumption with which old matter is presented. If old information is presented as new, or old arguments are made as arguments which the audience has not before un- derstood, resentment may be provoked. ''Does he think we don't know that?" is sometimes heard. There are manj^ young speakers who offend in this way, always ^'carrying coals to Newcastle." Students will tell their classmates how the campus is arranged and the most obvious faults of the old gymnasium. The explanation seems to be that they have not realized what speech-making is, and are still in the essay habit, writing for instructors who have no right to be interested. I have heard the commonplaces about our gymnasium so many times that, given the start, I know the rest. This speech and several others 126 PUBLIC SPEAKING af its kind simply embody the campus talk, which any sophomore can give without preparation. Yet I have heard a speech on that same gymnasium and its same deficiencies, which combined so much new information and such an individual point of view with the old ideas, that it was genuinely interesting. There is another kind of student speaker, somewhat of a thinker and scholar, who tries to give us just as much new matter as possible, quite regard- less of the state of our interest and understanding. Audiences differ in their relish for novelty, because some are more conservative than others in their thinking. Some like to look back and dwell upon what we owe the past; they glory in Webster's speeches at Bunker Hill and Plymouth Rock; while others think those speeches tiresome commonplaces, and find their interest in what is and what is to be. Some love old ideas just because they are old, as they love old furniture ; others love the new because it is new, as they love new words and new fash- ions. There are tories and radicals of thought. The dif- ference may arise not only from temperament, but also from training. A body of scholars, while insisting upon the recognition of established truths and approved modes of thought, may still delight in ventures into the fields of speculation ; they gladly seek new truth for its own sake. A body of ' * advanced thinkers, ' ' generally lacking sound training, may insist not at all upon the recognition of familiar landmarks, and take with enthusiasm the boldest flights into the uncharted realms of fancy. On the other hand, those who are unaccustomed to thinking and who are guided by a few inherited beliefs, are subject to mental homesickness when out of sight of the familiar headlands. They may even resent the introduction of a great deal that they cannot interpret. We recall, also, that the educated find fewer things entirely new, and they are more rarely carried beyond the point of comparison. Most persons will expect, on most occasions, to gain ATTE JTION OF THE AUDIENCE 127 something from attending your address. They usually hope for new information, or to get new light on an old problem, or perhaps to receive reassurance and inspira- tion. Excepting the unusually serious-minded, few are so keen for improvement that they will take stock after- ward of what they have gained ; provided, they have been interested. But if you have not succeeded in interesting them, they will grumble that the time has been wasted, that it was ''the same old stuff," and that they have heard it much better put before. Summary. The new has power to interest; and the new is what the speaker himself often desires to present. We must keep in mind, however, the principle of derived interest. New ideas and facts should be presented so that they can be readily related to existing interests ; so that the audience can see that the new is a valuable addition to existing knowledge, furnishes a new explanation, or is in opposition to existing beliefs. The audience likes to identify the familiar in new guise, simply to identify, or to recognize in an incident or situation a new instance to confirm an old conviction, or to findt that accepted prin- ciples have applications hitherto unknown. We must recognize that there are circumstances under which audiences like to hear familiar ideas put in familiar ways ; and yet that they are quick to complain of triteness, which seems to be the result of putting old material in a way which fails to respond to or awaken their emotions, in a way which falls short of their expectations, or which as- sumes the ignorance of the audience. Usually we should aim to give something new in material or something new in treatment ; or better, something new in both. Making the audience think. I have been speaking merely of holding attention, leaving out of view the other purposes of the speaker. I have considered this problem, 128 PUBLIC SPEAKING too, chiefly from the standpoint of the pleasure of the audience. If we consider the question of new and old with reference to making the audience think, which is, of course, to make them attend, we shall come to the same conclusion. We may rest this on the following from Dewey's How We Think} ' ' The more remote supplies the stimulus and the motive [of thinking] ; the nearer at hand furnishes the point of approach and the available resources. This principle may also be stated in this form : The best thinking oc- curs when the easy and the difficult are duly proportioned to each other. The easy and the familiar are equivalents, as are the strange and the difficult. Too much that is easy gives no ground for inquiry, too much of the hard renders inquiry hopeless. ' ' Sensational methods. To catch attention speakers sometimes use methods in sharp contrast with the usual. These are at times justifiable ; as when your audience is peculiarly inattentive because of stupidity, or weariness, or because of anger, as in case of a mob, or because their attention is strongly drawn by other attractions, as is often the case in outdoor speaking. In a sense, every speaker uses sensational methods when he suddenly lifts his voice, or uses a striking gesture or epigram ; but when an evangelist advertises, ^'Hell to-night at the Presby- terian Church," or tears off coat and collar, or suddenly shouts, *'Look out!" we say he is sensational. Between these extremes are many grades of sensationalism, and it is useless to attempt to say what is justifiable and what is not. There is this to be considered: When a speaker's public becomes accustomed to his extraordinary methods, it will not listen so well when he wishes to use more con- venient ordinary methods. Extreme methods are like 1 P. 222. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 129 stimulants, the close has to be increased. If you turn a physical or a mental handspring to-day, you will be ex- pected to turn it backward to-morrow. Again, the sen- sational method may defeat its purpose of drawing at- tention to what you wish to impress, by drawing attention to itself. If you acquire a reputation as a ''stuntster,'' people will come for the stunts, and perhaps feel impatient when you try to slip in a few ideas. To illustrate effective use of a striking expression, we may take the opening sentence of a bulletin of the New York State Health Board, intended to catch the public eye from the pages of a news- paper: "It has been said that for every death from tuberculosis, some one should be hanged." Having caught attention without committing the Board to this startling proposal, the bulletin pro- ceeds : "It has been better said that for every death from tuber- culosis, some one should be educated." And note that this attracts attention to the very point of the bulletin. I would not at all discourage the use of the genuinely effective phrase. Curiosity. One of the surest ways of catching attention is to provoke curiosity in regard to what is coming. This is done sometimes by announcements or titles which cause guessing, such as Jelly-Fish and Equal Rights; ^ or- it may be done by hints of notable disclosures to be made, or by a course of argument which keeps the hearer iix doubt as to the speaker's ultimate position. Again, tricks are played upon the audience; as when a speaker displays a mysterious document, to which he may or may not refer. Unless the speaker, having caught attention, really interesfchis audience in something else, or in open- ing up his mystery satisfies them that their attention has been repaid, they may resent the trick ; as one feels peev- ish to find that a great secret he has been called aside to hear, is but trivial. If Mark Antony had not had a real sensation after holding back Ceesar's will so long, his own 1 Atlantic Monthly, July, 1914, ISO PUBLIC SPEAKING might have been among the houses burned by the mob. One remembers, too, the fate of the boy who cried, ' ' Wolf, wolf!'' when there was^ no wolf. Suspense. Closely related to curiosity is that element which carries us with breathless interest to the conclusion of a novel, seeking to know the hero's fate, and which makes most thrilling the game which is in doubt till the last ''put-out." There may be in most cases strong reasons why the speaker should tell his audience in ad- vance what he proposes to explain or prove or ask them to do, but the element of suspense is often available. A con- servative audience was held in considerable trepidation by a student speaker who devoted the first half of his speech to the best possible arguments for anarchy; and then listened with relief while he toppled over these same argu- ments. Mere uncertainty is not very effective; the un- certainty should arise with regard to something the audi- ence cares about. Sometimes the material of a speech can be thrown into the form of a dramatic narrative which has suspense as a principal element. Anticipation. But it is not sheer blank inability to foresee any issue at all that is most provocative of in- terest ; rather the chance to anticipate, to make a shrewd guess at the outcome. A preacher kept even the regular sleepers of his congregation awake by announcing that his text would not be given until the end of his sermon, and requesting that each should fix upon an appropriate verse of Scripture. More than this, we must admit great pleasure in looking forward to a known outcome. A writer in the Atlantic Monthly "i- points out that we go to a popular play with pretty complete advance information. "Consequently, there is not the slightest danger, even if we come late, that 1 shall laugh at the wrong place or fail to laugh at the 1 May, 1914, The Show, by Simeon Strunsky. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 131 right place, or that Emmeline will fail to grope for her handkerchief at the right time. Through the same agency of the newspaper the funniest lines, the strongest 'punch,' the most sympathetic bits of dialogue have been charted and located. At college I used to be told that the tremendous appeal of the Greek drama was dependent in large measure on the fact that it dealt with stories which were perfectly familiar to the public. The Athenian audience came to the theater expectant, surcharged with emotion, waiting eagerly to let its emotion go." The speaker will meet with such anticipation usually only in times of public excitement, when perhaps the papers have been prophesying that a leader will make a certain announcement on a given occasion. In some cases these announcements are skilfully prepared for by hints to the papers for several days, hints which preserve an element of uncertainty. In political campaigns a candi- date may go about day after day, reiterating a popular pledge, making damaging charges, or asking hard ques- tions of his opponent. We know what he is going to say, but we want to hear him say it. Mr, Jerome with his brass checks from the "red-light" district, in one of his campaigns for the district attorneyship of New York City, and Mr. Taft with his oft reiterated pledge in 1908 to "carry out absolutely unaltered the policies of Theodore Roosevelt," may serve as examples. Mr. Hennessey, who during the mayoralty cam- paign in New York City, in 1913, gave each night a portion of his revelations of Tammany rule, with a promise of more to-morrow, illustrated the force of both anticipation and suspense. Humor. An audience will listen as long as it is amused, and a good laugh may banish weariness or hostility. So true is this that ability to make an audience laugh is a dangerous temptation to overuse humor. Unless the story or witty saying serves the purpose of the speech, it is likely to distract attention. The practice of dragging in stories without connection, or with only a fictitious con- nection, though very common, is one to **make the judicious grieve." The determination to be funny" at 132 PUBLIC SPEAKING any cost comes within the spirit of Hamlet's condem- nation : **Let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; for there be of them that Avill themselves laugh, to set on some barren quantity of spec- tators to laugh, too ; though, in the meantime, some nec- essary question of the play be then to be considered: that 's villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. ' ' Professor Ketcham i tells of a student, with whom we might sym- pathize in his yielding to temptation, without approving of his action. The speaker in question was third in a college oratorical contest, and one after the other the first two speakers forgot their speeches and retired. He came forward and began: "Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.*' Professor Ketcham justly observes: *'The effect was a decided success, if success were to be judged by the amusement of the audience ; but it only prolonged the time required to get the at- tention of the audience fixed on the serious subject which the speaker wished to present." There is one possible justification for what this speaker did, — that the quotation served to relieve the strain of feeling which holds all after the failure of a speaker. If the student had had the skill to frame a new introduction to lead gradually from the fun to his serious subject,^! should say he had done well, but that is beyond the average ability. Even on the lightest of occasions, when the ^^nedessary question" is inconsiderable, one should not be content to descend to the mental level of the Duchess : ^ "He might bite,'* Alice cautiously replied. . . . "Very true," said the Duchess, "flamingoes and mustard both bite. And the moral of that is — 'Birds of a feather flock to- gether.' " It is no great stretch of imagination to hear one of our ever- ready after-dinner speakers saying: "Mr. Chairman, I see before me a dish of mustard. A simple object to be sure; yet it reminds me of other days. It reminds me, that mustard bites." (Here story of the mustard plaster of child 1 Arfjnmenfation and Debate, p. 101. ^ Alice in Wonderland, Chap. IX, ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 133 hood.) "But, Mr. Chairman, mustard is not the only thing that bites. Dogs bite, horses bite, tigers bite, and even birds, though toothless, bite. Yes, setting hens bite, and the other day I learned that flamingoes bite." (Story of how a flock of flamingoes bit a crocodile.) "Well, Mr. Chairman, the hour is late, and I will only take time to observe, in more serious vein, that we see here again exemplified the old adage, *Birds of a feather flock together.' I thank you." Young speakers will do well to note that the repetition of stories'' is not the only way to add humor to a speech. It may spring from the whimsical turn of a phrase, from placing in juxtaposition an opponent's incongruous argu- ments, from a comical bit of narration or description, without going at all outside the proper materials of the speech, or checking its movement. This may be illus- trated from a student 's speech on athletics : ^ "Unconsciously we have made a huge caricature of the whole business. . . . We train up our athletes as did the colonial cavalier his fighting cocks, or as does the modern millionaire his racing horse ; we specially feed them, transport them in special trains ; we yell for them, bet on them and weep over them. If it were not so serious it would be highly humorous, the sight of our five-thou- sand dollar coaches and trainers, — intelligent men for the most part, — running around after their charges, coddling them and denying them, looking solicitously after their appetites, seeing that they are properly rubbed down, tucking them into bed, turning out the lights, aye, and report has it, even praying for them in a fashion all their own." Here and in several other places in the speech the speaker amused his hearers without in the least going out of his way. All the humor served to impress emphatic ideas. The funny story is much in vogue and undoubtedly has its use as well as its abuse. A word about the means of having a supply is in order. While we like old jokes, about fat men and about mothers-in-law, still they do pall upon the taste when we hear them often told in the same form, and listeners are rather apt to murmur, ''That 's an old one," especially when they are told as new. Joke books may help (Shurter's Jokes I Have Met, is as 1 Tendencies of American Athletics, by W. W. Taylor, Cornell, '07, winner of the Central Oratorical League contest in 1906. See Shurter's Rhetoric of Oratory, p. 219. 134 PUBLIC SPEAKING good as any) ; but as one's fellow sufferers at a banquet may have had recourse to the same work, a speaker does well to have a pri- vate supply. It may prove worth while to preserve in a scrapbook or card index such stories as appeal to one as possibly useful in future speeches. Interest in conflict. "We have an instinctive interest in conflict. We may hate it, dread it, joy in it, but are rarely indifferent to it, whether it takes the form of a dog fight, of athletic straggles, of war, of business competition, or of a struggle with nature. We also like stories of con- flict, so told that through imagination we become spec- tators of or participants in the struggle. At times a speaker can utilize this interest by throwing his speech, or a part of it, into a narrative of the conflict with the forces of the opposition, whether those forces consist of men, aS in war, politics and commerce, or of natural obstacles, as in building a canal or overcoming disease. No doubt interest is keenest where the conflict is with men, where passions are aroused; but enmity is not necessary. The story of the heroic period of an en- terprise or reform will usually hold attention. Antagonizing the audience. Another and quite differ- ent way to utilize the interest of conflict is to antagonize one's hearers; as, by statements contrary to their beliefs, ^ or by condemning their customs or their heroes. A speaker may startle a sleepy audience into attention by /^a sweeping statement which he later modifies. The speaker, instanced before, who seemed to advocate an- archy, was employing antagonism as well as suspense. There would have been little point to an orthodox refuta- tion of anarchy before an audience convinced of its awful- ness; but after becoming excited by an argument for an- archy they listened with relief while he demolished it. A student preaching the advantages of student activities" ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 1S5 would get better attention, if he first stated very fairly the argument against them. The method secures more thinking on the part of the audience. Manifestly, if the speaker wishes to get more than< attention from his hearers, antagonizing them is a dangerous game to play ; and one who plays it should be confident of his ability to keep cool and to restore his audience to good humor. I consider only the question of interest here and not at aU the moral question involved. I assume that speakers will say, in one way or another, what they believe, and will not try to deceive. I recognize, too, that at times one may feel it his duty to antagonize an audience. Interest in activity. '^Nothing is more interesting than a person, an animal, even a machine, in action. Much of the strength of window demonstrations, street vending, etc., depends on this fact. The New York Herald has no better advertisement than the sight of its presses, from the windows on Broadway. ' ' ^ Probably all students will recognize the picture of ' * a roomful of col- lege students suddenly becoming perfectly still to watch a professor of physics tie a piece of string about a stick he was going to use in an experiment, but immediately grow- ing restless when he began to explain the experiment." The appeal of action may be added to a speech sometimes by the use of apparatus, but more often by a measure of acting, by gesture, by the rapid narration of ev^ts and by descriptions of animated scenes. We see here the re- lation of this topic to imagination. Illustrations can be found in the selectiohs, Who is to Blame? and Await the Issue, printed at the end of Chapter XIV, and in Wendell Phillips's Toussaint VOuvertiire, Concreteness. What has been said of concreteness in (Chapters III and IV should be reviewed and applied to 1 Hollingworth, Advertising and Selling, p. 114. 136 PUBLIC SPEAKING audiences, for they need concrete expression even more than the speaker himself. Great speeches will be found notably concrete in language and abounding in illustra- tions ; and experienced speakers, at least those who suc- ceed with general audiences, tend to grow more and more concrete. I heard a noted scholar, now distinctly concrete in his speech, say, ''When I returned from Europe, filled with the German abstract philosophy, my audiences did not ask me to come again. ' ' Highly trained thinkers may hold unnecessary the wealth of fact and incident which experienced speakers put into their discourse; but the speakers know that the less highly trained will hardly make an effort to listen to abstractions, but will wait till their speakers ''come down to cases.'' Narratives, ex- amples, illustrations, fables, parables— these hold atten- tion and stick in memory. We recall the less usual meanings of the term concrete. Our ideas should be clothed in familiar terms, such as require no translation. These will be of the best Eng- ,'?lish, the English known to all, the words we acquire 3arly in life and which have the greatest significance for as. These familiar words will not be bookish or "big.'' It does not matter what language they are derived frorr nor whether they are long or short, just so they are fanr- iar and suitable ; though they will more often than not \ Saxon and short. There are obvious limitations on this doctrine: less fprailiar words may be needed for accuracy, and even for force, r.,;.i tho more specialized one^s subject the greater the need for te* 'liiic- language. But the use of technical and unfamiliar words ;^hou not be extended beyond what is necessary. ^ Long and short words and Latin and Saxon derivatives are di cussed in Spencer's Philosophy of Style. You will find a simp- and specific statement of what good sense and good taste d« . ree the use of words, in Hiirs Foundationa of Rhetoric, un^ r t • heading, Words to Choose. . ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE {lS7J Again, we recall that the average man is practical in his thinking, and will be chiefly interested in the appli- cations of your ideas. He may dismiss the whole matter unless he sees early in your address that you are coming to a practical application. Says Dewey : ^ ^^For the great majority of men under ordinary cir- cumstances, the practical exigencies of life are almost, if not quite, coercive. Their main business is the proper conduct of their affairs. Whatever is of significance only as affording scope for thinking is pallid and remote — almost artificial. Hence the contempt felt by the success- ful executive for the ^mere theorist'; hence his convic- tion that certain things may be all very well in theory, but that they will not do in practice ; in general, the de- preciatory way in which he uses the terms, abstract, theoretical, and intellectual — as distinct from intelli- gent/^ A group of men listens to a professor of physics explaining gyro- static motion. At the end the questions show that the chief in- terest is in such practical questions as how the principle affects automobiles on curves. Some of the scientific men present inquire about more theoretical applications, but their questions are prac- tical to them. The so-called practical man might consider the above quotation from Dewey, ''moonshine" ; but I find it interest- ing because I see its practical applications. Once your average man has derived an interest in a subject through some practical application, he may be carried far beyond the limits of the practical. Be specific with audiences. Generalizations have their place^ but they shoiird usually be accompanied by specific expressions when strong impression is desired. If you wish to say of a man that he has known many of the great of his time, it may be better to say, He has met and talked familiarly with Gladstone, Bismarck, Cavour and many another of the great of his day — thus securing the 1 How We Think, p. 138. iSS PUBLIC SPEAKING advantages of both general and specific statement. Macaulay writes: *'Down went the old church of France, with all its pomp and power. The churches were closed ; the bells were silent ; the shrines were plundered ; the silver crucifixes were melted down ; buffoons dressed in surplices came dancing the carmagnole, even to the bar of the convention." The statement grows more vivid and imagination is touched as the specific items are added. But to enumer- ate is only one way to be specific. One can say maple instead of tree, Sam Adams instead of 07ie of the Revolu- tionary Fathers, or it snowed instead of the weather was bad. Consider the difference in vividness caused by the substitution of walked for ivent in He went down the street; and then substitute for walked one of these: marched, paced, plodded, sauntered, hurried, shuffled, shambled, slunk, staggered, strode, swaggered. Tlie specific terms provoke a mental image, and the desired mental image, more quickly and certainly than the gen- eral expression. The word tree may call up an elm, when the speaker meant a maple tree ; or just a vague any sort of tree, or no tree at all. Moreover, as our emotional as- sociations group themselves about particular things, the specific term is more likely to find firm footing in the mind. Specific and general illustrations. It has been pointed outHhat illustrations, which are by their nature con- crete, may be either general or specific. The statement that college education is not necessary to the development of strong men, may be given this general illustration: We have had many great statesmen, warriors, inventors and business men who enjoyed but meager schooling; but we come to specific instance with — 1 Phillips, Effective H peaking, p. 89. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 13i) Abraham Lincoln had learned at school only the three R's. . . . President Andrew Johnson, a former tailor, visited no school. . . . Andrew Carnegie began his commercial career when twelve years of age, as a factory hand. . . . Edison was engaged in selling papers when twelve years of age." The general illustration has the advantages of giving fuller scope to the idea and of not checking the hearer in supplying instances from his own experience ; but it is comparatively vague and there is no certainty that the hearer will be able, on the spur of the moment, to sup- port the statement with any instances at all. The specific instance limits the scope, but is more certain to provoke response and to add to the convincingness of a statement ; provided the instances given have strong associations in the minds of one's hearers. Eucalyptus would more certainly bring a sharp image to a California audience than would tree, but not to a New York audience. Imagination and attention of the audience. If a speaker in his preparation duly exercises his imagination and gives it ample material to work upon, he will tend to express his thoughts in such forms as will stimulate the imagination of his hearers. This is a tendency to be encouraged. Every teacher and every speaker knows he can hold attention longer with experiments, with objects and processes to see, than with words alone. But since the actual presentation of the things discussed is limited, maps, charts, diagrams and stereopticon pictures are brought into play when feasible. So strong is their command of attention that it is a disadvantage to have them present when one does not wish his audience to look at them. I recently heard a young lecturer who permitted his operator to run off near the end of his discourse, a series of views having no 140 immediate connection with what he was saying. Needless to say, that part of an interesting lecture was lost. In the majority of cases, the use of pictures and charts is impracticable or undesirable, but their effectiveness serves to impress upon us the fact that a speaker who can fill the minds of his audience with images of sight, sound and motion, is pretty sure of attention. Of the speaker who cannot stir imagination, one writer ^ has gone so far as to say: man who cannot translate his concepts into definite images of the proper objects is fitted neither to teach, preach nor practise any profession. He should waste as little as possible of the time of his fellow-mortals by talking to them." imagination and the materials of a speech. One does not have to introduce special material for the purpose of rousing imagination, but can use the proper materials of his speech. The facts in regard to the life of Lincoln can be woven together to make him stand before us a living man; the facts upon which one bases his argu- ment for arbitration can be arranged so as to make con- ditions real. Narration and description are the chief means of accomplishing these ends; and the study of works which deal with these forms of discourse is recom- mended, though the reader must bear in mind that they are prepared for the student of written rather than of oral discourse.^ If you were discussing the fortification of the Panama Canal, the prospects of the Mexican people, the causes of the European wap^^ the safeguarding of passengers on steamships, the business future of the South, the promise of a railroad your hearers are asked to finance, the best 1 Halleck, Psychology and Psychic CvHure, p. 188. 2 Gardiner's Forms of Prose Dhcovrse, Lamont's English Com- position and Baldwin's Composition Oral and Written, are sug- «:ested. Use their indexes. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 141 kind of a steam plant for a certain factory, — in all these cases, both for clearness and for interest, yon would wish so to group your facts that your hearers would imaginatively realize situations, conditions and events. Some speeches will fall naturally into narrative or into de- scriptive form ; but others will more conveniently take an expository or an argumentative form. These, however, may need narrative or descriptive passages, as in explain- ing or arguing about the causes of a war, or the wisdom of the Monroe Doctrine. Besides the necessary descrip- tions of places, situations and major events, there is also opportunity for enlivening discourse by descriptions of personalities and by anecdotes. Analogy. We may reach out beyond the necessary ma- terials of a speech and touch imagination by the use of analogies, comparisons and figures of speech. For ex- amples of analogy we may turn to the selection from Huxley at the end of Chapter XIY. Illustration, of one form or another, is the very life of speech. No one can be unconscious of the satisfaction, the relief from strain, the coming back to attention, when a speaker follows a theoretical discussion with, ' * To illus- trate." Illustrations can best be studied in complete speeches or long excerpts such as it is not feasible to in- clude here. One also needs something of the situation to appreciate a good illustration. But the subject is of such importance that I shall emphasize a few points in regard to the use of illustrations. First suggestion: Take care that each illustration adds its strength to that which deserves emphasis in your speech, and does not obscure that by unduly emphasiz- ing minor points. Resist the temptation to use a good story or striking picture for its own sake, regardless of the worth of the idea that it strengthens. Do not ''work 142 PUBLIC SPEAKING illustrations in" if they are not strictly pat, no matter how amusing, or stirring, or beautiful. Your hearers will either puzzle over the relation which should exist, or they will be drawn off to the thought the illustration really illumines. A speaker who is privileged to hear the com- ments of his auditors will often be pained at the number of instances in which their attention has been caught by some idea incidental to an illustration used, while the main thought has escaped them. You may expect your illustrations to be remembered longest ; they should there- fore be of such a character that they will recall to mind your major ideas. I heard a noted advocate of equal suffrage spend a third of her ad- dress on the illustration of a minor point in her argument, — that the country people before her should be interested in the rights and wrongs of city workers. This suggested the truth that all the world to-day is bound together by common interests ; and this point she illustrated by the effect that a change of administration in Korea had upon an industry in a New York town. For fifteen minutes she described very beautifully life in Korea, while we for- got the suffrage and even the direct application of her illustration. Second suggestion: Use only illustrations which are congruous with the spirit of your speech and of the occa- sion. Beware, for example, of frivolous illustrations on serious occasions and of such as will seem pretentious and over-serious on lighter occasions. It should be noted, however, that illustrations, especially of a narrative char- acter, are useful in gradually changing the spirit of an audience. Third suggestion: Do not use unnecessary details, but choose those needed to make the picture. To give every detail is to stifle imagination ; as a photograph may suggest less than a few strokes of an artist 's brush. The street urchin I heard replying to his chum's question, *'How is the ice?" with, ''Fine; so clear you can see a ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 143 snake on the bottom ! ^ ' could not have improved the pic- ture of good skating with any number of details. Do not let needless preliminary details take more time than the incident. A formal introduction is not always necessary, not even ^^To illustrate. ' ' Instead of a long preamble, as, This reminds me of a man who used to live in our town, who had a son named John, who would not go to school. So the father decided he would find a way to impress the desirability of school upon his son. So one morning he said to John, at the breakfast table, says he, ''John, etc.,'' — instead of all this rigmarole, in most cases it w^ould be better to say. As a father said to his son who would not go to school, etc. Fourth suggestion: On the other hand^ there must be details. How many it is useless to attempt to say : enough to serve the purpose. If needed details are omitted the audience may make no imaginative effort; or may sup- ply wrong details. If you wish them to imagine a scene of great animation^ you must give enough details of life and movement to prevent their imagining a lifeless scene. However, it is generally true that fewer details are needed when you wish to convey merely an impression than when you wish your hearers to form an image substantially correct j as when you wish a board of directors to know the pro- posed arrangement of a factory, or a jury to realize exj actly how the parties to a tragedy were grouped. There may be times when elaboration is desired simply to hold attention upon the illustration longer, in order to deepen the impression. Sufficiency of details is often consistent with brevity^ Much is gained by using specific words. If instead or saying building, you say tower or churchy your hearers have the right image at once, and no further detail may 144 PUBLIC SPEAKING be needed. It is not necessary to give each detail a sep- arate statement. To illustrate both this and the preced- ing hint, if you say, The army was moving along a stream, you still need several details, lest your hearers see a creek when you mean a considerable river, and see the army on the left bank going north, when you wish them to see the army on the right bank going south. But if you say, General Jones was hurrying with his cavalry division down the right bank of the Delaware River to reach the ford at X, several essential points have been economically conveyed, and yet given sufficient prominence. You should beware of asking an audience to carry in mind a very elaborate mass of details; and when complexity is necessary you should use charts, pictures and models. I hear students trying to explain complicated apparatus, and requiring their hearers to put in order in imagination so many thingumbobs articulating in 80 many ways with so many thingumjigs, that the class gives up and waits politely for the end. Even with diagrams and all pos- sible aids, some explanations are impossible in a short speech, and these should simply not be attempted. The answers to criticism, "Why I said so and so," and "I thought anybody could understand that," are no answers at all. An analogy may be helpful in explaining a complicated situation. A famous example is that by Hugo beginning, "Those who wish to form a distinct idea of the battle of Waterloo need only imagine a capital A laid on the ground." The description that follows is well worth looking up.i The elevation on which the Northern army lay on the third day of the battle of Gettysburg has been compared to an enormous fish-hook, with Little Round Top hill at the eye of the hook, the cemetery at the beginning of the bend, which curves away from Lee's main position, bringing the two wings of Meade's army rather close together. Fifth suggestion: The success of any piece of word painting will depend much upon order of details. It has been proved that the time taken by an experienced me- chanic in assembling a machine, can be cut down two iLe« Miserahlea: Cosette, Book I, Chapter IV. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 145 thirds by providing him a rack which presents the parts to his hands in the best older. Somewhat similar is the increase in your hearers' imaginative effectiveness when you give them details in the right order. If some needed detail is not given in time, your hearers may be at a loss, or may supply it wrongly, and then have to reas- semble" the whole. The illustration above of describing the movement of an army, may be applied here also. That this suggestion is not merely one of the notions of fussy pedagogues, may be seen from the fact that so great a thinker as Herbert Spencer has laid stress upon the order of details in an image, going so far as to weigh the relative advantages of the Eng- lish and the French orders in a Mack horse and a horse blacky and deciding in favor of the former on the ground that when one hears the word horse he is likely to image a bay horse, and thus have to reconstruct his mental image when black is added. We may agree with critics that Spencer pressed his point too far, but not on the ground that the effort of reconstruction is too slight to matter. "Mony a mickle makes a muckle," and the nerve force wasted in listening to a half-hour address may prove considerable. Often as one listens in conversation to a description or narration, he is deeply puzzled until some missing detail is given. "Oh," he says, *'that is what stuck me. Now it begins to clear up" ; and he straightens out the matter by asking questions and rearranging details. But one who listens to a speech usually cannot do this. Sixth suggestion: Consider your audience in choos- ing illustrations. First, you should consider what illus- trations your audience will understand. The references to Dick Turpin, Jeremy Diddler and Jonathan Wild, in the selection, Who is to Blame? (see Chapter XIV) are open to criticism. I refer here to brief allusions. If time permits and the illustration is worth it, sufficient expla- nation to make it intelligible may, of course, be given. Secondly, when you use illustration for the sake of in- terest, you should draw from fields which interest your hearers. Thirdly, you should consider what associations you may be stirring up. You can get the interest of 146 PUBLIC SPEAKING old soldiers by illustrations drawn from the Civil War ; but in your Memorial Day address in the North you had better not confine yourself to Bull Eun, Chancellorsville and other defeats, nor in the South would you choose Sherman 's ^ ^ bummers ' ' to illustrate reckless daring. Not only may unfortunate illustrations provoke unpleasant feelings, but also they may distract attention from your main thought. An illustration, even though apt and ap- plied to the central thought, may be too interesting, whether the feelings be pleasant or unpleasant. If to- day one draws an illustration from the European war, he risks losing attention. Sources of material for illustration. The possible sources are too numerous to mention; but illustrations are so little used by young speakers that some sug- gestions are justified. Besides such general sources as politics, history, literature, science and religion, we have the special suggestions of the time and place of speaking, the events which are filling the press, or are still fresh in memory, and the direct experiences of the audiences. It is well to note also that there is a pleasurable interest in merely recalling events of the more distant past. The old especially will awaken to interest when you remind them of events, important or unimportant, which once held their attention, though long out of mind. ''Yes," said an old man with wistful interest, ''I remember I was a little boy when the war w4th Mexico broke out. Father used to read to us out of the papers about General Taylor and Santa Anna. ' ' Among the more tangible sources of illustration are such history and literature as come within common knowledge : Shakespeare, ^sop 's fables, American his- tory and the Bible are perhaps the commonest sources before general audiences. A student of affairs has at- ATTENTION OF THE/ AUDIENCE / 117 ' i tributed something of Mr. Byran's power with such audi- ences to the fact that he has *^the Bible and American history at his tongue's end." This does not mean that Mr. Byran has a scholar 's knowledge of American history and the Bible, but that he has a good command of the better known facts. It is interesting to read, in connection with that statement, Mr. Bryan's own discussion of illustration.i He says that nature and literature are the two sources, and nature, in which term he evi- dently includes human nature, is the more important. People know nature better than they know books, and the illustrations drawn from everyday life are the most effective. To quote : *'If the orator can seize upon something within sight or hearing of his audience — something that comes to his notice at the moment and as if not thought of before — it will add to the effectiveness of the illustration. For instance, Paul's speech to the Athenians de- rived a large part of its strength from the fact that he called atten- tion to an altar near by, erected 'to the Unknown God,' and then proceeded to declare unto them the God whom they ignorantly wor- shiped. "Classical allusions ornament a speech, their value being greater of course when addressed to those who are familiar with their source. Poetry can often be used to advantage. . . . By far the most useful quotations for the orator, however, are those from Holy Writ. The people are more familiar with the Bible than with any other single book, and lessons drawn from it reinforce a speech. The Proverbs of Solomon abound in sentences which aptly express living truths. Abraham Lincoln used scripture quotations very frequently and very powerfully. Probably no Bible quotation, or, for that matter, no quotation from any book, ever has had more influence upon the people than the famous quotation made by Lin- coln in his Springfield speech of 1858, — 'A house divided against Itself cannot stand.' It is said that he had searched for some time for a phrase that would present in the strongest possible way the proposition he intended to advance! — namely, that the nation could not endure half-slave and half-free." A very important source of illustration is observation. The speaker who observes human life and its various oc- cupations, talks with all sorts of men, looks straight at things and asks questions until he understands them, will gather a mass of illustrative material that wdll serve him in good stead when needed. 1 Introduction to his World's Famous Orations^ p. xiii. 148 PUBLIC SPEAKING Webster, standing one morning at daybreak on the heights of Quebec, heard the drumbeat from the fortress and fell to thinking of £he extent of England's power. Years after, when wishing to impress upon the Senate the rash courage of our forefathers in resisting so great a power, he does not content himself with statis- tics of England's army and navy and wealth, but illuminates all with, — "They raised their flag against a power to which, for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome, in the height of her glory, was not to be compared, a power which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts ; whose morning drumbeat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth daily with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England.'* Figures of speech. The consideration of analogies leads US naturally to figurative language. I shall not attempt to treat of the reasons why words, singly or in compo- sition, diverted from their original meaning to suggest or signify something analogous/' ^ serve to add to the clear- ness and beauty of composition. We are concerned with figures as a means of holding attention. Wendell treats figures under the head of Force, which he defines^ as ^Hhe emotional quality of style, . . . the distinguish- ing quality of a style which holds the attention." We are particularly interested in figures here because they tend to create images in the mind. A brief review of speech literature will convince one that there is force in figures well used. We shall find that many of those passages which peculiarly cling to memory are enlivened by figure. The popular declama- tions are filled with figures ; such as Grady 's ' ' The Uni- versity the Training-Camp of the Future," with a metaphor in its title, and beginning, ' ' We are standing in the daybreak of the second century of this republic. The fixed stars are fading from the sky, and we grope in uncertain light." A glance through Curtis 's ^'Leader- 1 Wendell, English Composition, p. 245. 2 Ideniy p. 235. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 149 ship of Educated Men," reveals figures in almost every line. Observe this paragraph : "The scholar is denounced as a coward. Humanity falls among thieves, we are told, and the college Levite, the educated Pharisee, pass by on the other side. Slavery undermines the Republic, but the clergy in America are the educated class, and the church makes itself the bulwark of slavery. Strong drink slays its tens of thousands, but the educated class leaves the gospel of temperance to be preached by the ignorant and the enthusiast, as the English Establishment left the preaching of regeneration to Methodist itinerants in fields and barns. Vast questions cast their shadows upon the future : the just relations of capital and labor ; the dis- tribution of land ; the towering power of corporate wealth ; reform in administrative methods ; but the educated class, says the critic, instead of advancing to deal with them promptly, wisely, and courageously, and settling them as morning dissipates the night, without a shock, leaves them to be kindled to fury by demagogues, lifts a panic cry of communism, and sinks paralyzed with terror.'* One may be surprised on examination to find how constantly one uses figures> Even if some student says he will leave such flowery stuff to the wind-jammers and hot air artists," he is using metaphors, and mixing them too. Figures give the punch'' to slang. Some one has said that language is but a nosegay of faded meta- phors. Some of these lie partly hidden in Latin derivatives. ' ' Attention really means a stretching out to- ward. . . . Apprehend is nothing more or less than the Latin for catch on/'^ More plainly we see the figures in daybreak, a wild idea, flight of time, break the ice, grit, fret. We cannot help using figures if we would. It is doubtful if one should often seek a figure; though he may when wishing a rallying cry, or other expression which he very especially wishes to stick in mind. But since we are bound to use figures, and since well used they have force and badly used may be absurd, some at- tention to them is desirable. Wendell finds - that the essence of figure is a * ^ deep sense of connotation," and that their good use demands 1 Wendell, English Composition, p. 248. 2 Idem, pp. 255, 25& 150 PUBLIC SPEAKING primarily sympathy; that is, such an understanding of those addressed as will enable one to know what associa- tions a figure will arouse in their minds. The comparison should be broadly, sympathetically human. A complete treatment of figures would be out of place here. Those not familiar with the subject will profit by turning- to one or more of the following works : Hill's Foundations of Rhetoric, Wendell's English Composition^ Spencer's Philosophy of Style, Ge- nung's Working Principles of Rhetoric, Read also what Whipple says on the subject in his essay, Webster as a Master of English Style. I will speak only of the chief danger in the use of figures. The chief danger lies in the mixed metaphor, the product of a mind too unimaginative to realize that it is using figures, or of a very nimble imagination which leaps too rapidly from picture to picture. Probably few are capable of the famous bull : smell a rat, I see it floating in the air ; but mind you, I shall nip it in the bud," or of that product of the same mind, stand prostrate before the throne." These were nearly equaled, however, by the member of Parliament who declared that the British lion, "whether roaming the plains of India, or climbing the forests of Canada, will never draw in his horns or crawl into his shell." *'The young men are the backbone of this country," declared a speaker, "and that back- bone should be brought to the front." I heard a preacher depicting a young girl coming forth from her home to go tripping o'er the sea of life, while the devil reaches for her on every hand. The famous "bulls" are only especially absurd instances of what any one is likely to produce who is careless in his use of words. While the slips are rarely so amusing as those given above, they may be quite as confusing to those hearers who have active imag- inations. You will notice that the absurdities are often due to failure to recognize the figures in hackneyed expressions. Backhone, smell a rat, sea of life, are faded metaphors, but are still too strongly llgurative to be used freely in disregard of their original meanings. The best suggestion for avoiding error is that we should develop the habit of visualizing our expressions. No man who does this will make the ship of state jump the rails, or break the backbone of a cold wave. A well developed sense of words, such as is acquired by language study, is a great safeguard.^ Every speaker should develop some 1 Cf. Titchener, Primer of Psychology, p. 205, ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 151 sense of the figures which lie in the plain English forms, at least; such as standard, safeguard and hand. Every one should realize that a standard may be raised or lowered, but hardly laid down when one means set up ; and that one is not injured at the hands of a bulldog. If a hearer is not confused, he is at least distracted, when he is told of Goldwin Smith that his ^'intellectual activities kept pace with his declining years.'* Since the figures to which our attention is called are usually either absurd or magnificent, it may be well to call attention to some of homely force. These we may find in many a proverb, such as, "A burnt child dreads the fire," "A rolling stone gathers no moss." Of the extreme abolitionists, Beecher said, "They are try- ing to drive the wedge into the log butt-end foremost, and they will only split their beetle." And Robert Collier said of Beecher, who broke through the traditional theology of his church, **He was an oak planted in a washtub ; it was hard on the tub." Variations in imagery. We should note again, that individuals differ in regard to their dominating forms of imagery. These differences are likely to affect expres- sion ; that is, an eye-minded person in describing an event is likely to emphasize the visual imagery, dwelling upon what was to be seen; while an ear-minded person will emphasize sounds. A pertinent suggestion arising from these facts I am permitted to quote as follows : ^ ' ' If the speaker is a visual, and his audience is made up predominantly of motors, his images are of no use. As a matter of fact, most audiences are largely visual; but there is a large motor element everywhere, and al- lowance must be made for it. . . . Another thing to re- member is the audience's limits of attention. Shift from one type of cue to another on the part of the lecturer is more restful than the attempt to be concrete within the range of a single kind of cue. A man speaks very dif- ferently on the same subject, according as he speaks from sight, sound or feel. He becomes a different man ; his language and the nature of his appeal are different; and so the audience does not get tired." letter from Professor Titchener. 152 PUBLIC SPEAKING Sustaining attention. We have noted that novelty, curiosity, and sensational methods, while they may catch attention, will not of themselves hold it; but what we have learned of derived interest, concreteness and imagi- nation is as applicable to sustaining as to gaining atten- tion. And what we shall proceed to concerning compo- sition is applicable to both phases. There are, however, some special considerations under this head. The principle especially in mind here is already famil- iar from Chapter III. Fix in mind the statement quoted from Professor James on p. 60, noting in particular, '*The subject must be made to show new aspects of itself; to prompt new questions; in a word to change." Few phases of this whole subject are better worth our con- sideration than the avoidance o^^ and we are now prepared to enumerate some of the ways of present- ing a topic with due variation. They can be used only by a man ''of fuH mind, in whom the subject in hand is so mastered and matured that his thought upon it is active and germinant."^ Amplification of a thought does not mean dilution, but enrichment: First, we have the various phases of our subject-matter. If Lincoln is our theme, we may view him in the many phases before suggested. If we have narrowed down to Lincoln's tact, we may consider his tact in the law court, in politics, in dealing with his generals, with diplomats, etc. If the theme is arbitration, we may look at its economic side, its social side, its moral side, etc. If we speak on ''Honesty is the best policy," we may treat it first theoretically, then practically; and then we may consider honesty in social life, in the practice of law or 1 Genung, Working Principles of Rhetoric, p. 464. This is an excellent reference on amplification. See also Phillips's Effective Speaking under the headings, Cumulation, l{e^^tateme^t, General Illustration, Specific Instance and Testimony. r ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 153 medicine, or in selling goods. Taking up the uegro problem, a mind at all familiar with that subject can work out twenty phases in as many minutes. But since we must usually treat but one small part of a subject, we must carry analysis further. From the negro question we may select the negro in slavery; then, even without study, we think of how the negroes were brought into slavery, the economic factors that made their labor profit- able in the South, but not in the North, different types of negroes in slavery, negroes as skilled workers, rela- tions of masters and slaves, education permitted, means of gaining freedom, their music, religion, etc. But al- most any one of these divisions would make a topic for a speech ; and on study and analysis we should find that we could go on subdividing, as the botanist continues to make more and more classifications as his knowledge grows more intensive. Here, of course, the study of the topic as urged in Chapter IV comes in play. ^ Again, we may consider our material from different angles, as it will be viewed by different classes of people. If lynching is our theme, we may consider how Tfie ignorant negro is affected by it, how the intelligent negro views it, how the North looks upon it, and how dif- ferent classes of Southern people view it. Further, w^e may very profitably consider with how many existing in- terests of our hearers we can link our topic ; for every new relationship gives it a new aspect. We may put our ideas now into abstract, now into concrete terms ; now into general use, now into specific terms. We may utilize apt quotations. We may throw our arguments now into the forms of hard and fast exposition and logic, now into forms which will touch the imagination and the dramatic sense. We may use examples, illustrations general and specific and analogies and figures. 15* PUBLIC SPEAKING TKis list of possibilities is suggestive rather than com- plete. It is further to be observed that how much varia- tion is needed depends upon the length of the speech, its difficulty and the ability of the audience to attend and their eagerness to listen. Experience indicates that all this is not too obvious to mention, but should prove useful as a means of self-criticism. Beginners are often weak in the use of wdse amplification. Brevity. Often the beginner does not see that ampli- fication is needed for clearness and impressiveness, but thinks it means simply making a little go a long way, — dilution. The virtue of brevity is much impressed upon us. We are told that ''brevity is the soul of wit," that the average composition would be improved by cutting out half its words. Adjectives and adverbs in excess are ^ particularly w^arned against. When Hamlet says of his father, ' ' He was a man, take him for all in all, ' ' he could not have strengthened his praise by adding any adjective to man. Too many words and phrases, circumlocutions, such as iron utensil frequently employed for excavation instead of spade, — all these are clumsy and clog move- ment. Brevity is an essential ingredient in many a force- ful saying, though surprise is quite as important: *' Verbosity is cured by a wide vocabulary ; *' Language is the art of concealing thought"; ''Do not mistake per- spiration for inspiration"; "God pays, but he does not pay every Saturday." And finally, we know that audiences like brevity; that is, they like short speeches. Granting all this and more, still we must not over- estimate the value of mere brevity. There is a necessity of iteration, of staying attention upon an idea until it grows clear and impressive. Psychologists tell us that frequency as well as intensity is important in fixing im- pressions. More than this, amplification is not mere ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 155 repetition ; there is gain in information and understand- ing. Even the restatement sheds new light on a point. If this were not true, many of the greatest essays, poems, books, even the life work of some great men might as well be condensed into a few sententious sayings. Would it have been better if Newman, having written in The Idea of a University that a gentleman ^^is one who never in- flicts pain, ' ' had not gone on for several fine paragraphs, explaining and impressing his meaning? Yet there is the whole thought ' ^ in a nutshell. ' ' Let us take an earnest presentation of the argument for brevity by Dr. Austin Phelps : ^ ''Many years ago, Kossuth the Hungarian- patriot, in an address in the city of New York, expressed the idea that the time had gone by when the people could be depended upon for their own enslavement by standing armies. He compressed it into two w^ords. Said he, 'Bayonets think.' The words caught the popular taste like wildfire. They took rank with the proverbs of the language immediately. The idea was not new, but the style of it was. It had been floating in the dialect of political debate ever since the battle of Bunker Hill, but never before had it been condensed into a brace of words. The effect was electric. Millions then, for the first time, felt it as a fact in political history. Within a month the newspapers of Oregon had told their readers that bayonets think. Everybody told everybody else that bayonets think. In style it was a minie-bullet : everybody who heard it was struck by it. Such is the force of laconic dialect. ' ' Observe, first, that this expression "Bayonets think," would be very hard to interpret if it stood alone. Dr. Phelps tells us it is an old idea, yet he feels the need of giving its meaning in advance. No doubt Kossuth had presented the idea fully before he reached this expres- 1 Phelps and Frink, Rhetoric^ p. 139. 156 PUBLIC SPEAKING sion in his speech, and this was only a way of condensing his thought into a flashing phrase that would stick in memory. Usually these phrases, wonderful for brevity and force, depend upon the previous understanding of the audience, gained either beforehand or from the speech itself ; and they simply crystallize this understand- ing. This is true of the epigrams quoted above. How much would they mean to one who could not translate and amplify them ? So much depends upon the information i and belief of one's hearers that we cannot safely accept V. the dogmatic statement, the briefer the better. So much for brevity and clearness. We cannot doubt that brief statements are often forceful. I should like to insist on this truth, were there need ; but it is also true that brevity is not necessarily forceful. Note how Dr. Phelps, in his desire to impress us with the force of Kos- suth's phrase, multiplies words. He goes into details, he reiterates, and he employs figures of speech. Empha- sis requires time as well as sheer force. The hearer must have time to think, to take in the thought. If you can keep me thinking of a matter for an hour, you have made that matter important in my eyes. The Gettysburg Ad- dress is pointed to as a marvel of brevity ; but if the ut- most brevity is good, this speech is verbose. Short as it is, it contains words not necessary, and even repetitions. Moreover, the times prepared the audience for the speech and Edward Everett, who spoke before the President, had in a long discourse, reviewed the history which formed a background for Lincoln's address. And after all, there is strong evidence that the audience were not so much im- pressed with the speech as we are. It was too short for a hearer, who lacks the reader's opportunity to deliberate. When Lincoln debated with Douglas he usually took his full two hours. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 157 Short sermons are especially welcomed. Is it not because we go to church from a sense of duty, and because hearers and preachers alike often fail to do their share toward making sermons interesting? We do not like a really good sermon to stop in fifteen minutes. Some may find interest in turning to the Outlook for July 10, 1913, and ex- amining the sermon at p. 631, selected and commended for its brev- ity. It amuses, it hits its point ; .but does it satisfy ? Is the appli- cation clear? Would it be equally good before an ordinary congre- gation ? A good thing should not be made a fetish. Serious writers, including Dr. Phelps, recognize the limitations of the doctrine, be brief, and they dwell also upon the need for amplification. What, then, is the truth? Am I urging you to be as long-winded as you like ? Heaven forbid ! Short speeches are usually best. First, we must take the familiar suggestion : Consider the circumstances and the needs of your audience. Is the brief statement sufficiently clear? sufficiently impressive? If so, use no more words. Secondly, in answering the first question, consider whether you are amplifying a thought that de- serves emphasis. Thirdly, waste no words. Be eco- nomical; but that does not mean niggardly with words, as Professor Palmer says ^ Emerson was. An old lawyer has said that ^Hhe number of a man's words should be like the length of a blanket, — enough to cover the bed and to tuck in besides. ' ' Do not cut out till the effect is bareness. Ask yourself, does the word in question serve a proper purpose? AVould one serve as well as two? Fourthly, in order to secure needed amplification and yet keep our speeches short, we should narrow our themes. There are but few occasions when we are required to cover a large subject in a few minutes On the occasion of Lincoln's second inaugural there were many topics crying for attention ; and yet his address was brief because he 1 Self 'Cultivation in English, p. 12. 158 PUBLIC SPEAKING limited his scope. This is the brevity audiences like, that of a well developed but limited idea, not that of a bare, hard-packed address. A short dull speech may seem longer than a long interesting one. There is no mistake more common with our college debaters, who are compelled to be brief, than that of endeavoring to pack as many arguments as possible into five or ten minutes, instead of trying to make a few essential points impress and cling to the judges* minds. Unity in variety. I have emphasized the need for change and also the need for dwelling upon important ideas; and now I emphasize the need for unity, which demands that each speech should ' ' group itself about one central idea." We must make a distinction between merely holding attention through a given period, and holding attention to those ideas which, properly im- pressed, will accomplish our further purposes. It may be possible to hold attention, if that is all that is desired, by a series of disconnected ^^hits," whether these be jokes, stories, ''purple patches," epigrams, passages of sheer beauty, or any other resource of composition and delivery; but all this is a waste for a speaker with a purpose, unless he has used all to produce a unified impression. The importance of unity will grow upon us as we study and practise public speaking. A writer tells i us the plays of to-day "do not depend for their effect upon cumulative interest, but upon individual 'punch.* . . . Our latest dramatic form combines all forms in a swift medley of effects that I can describe by no other term than vaudeville." He adds significantly that when the curtain falls, turning from the play instantly, "we lean back into the ordinary world'' and "resume con- versation interrupted in the subway." I have in mind a preacher whose sermons might also be described as vaudeville. There is the call to laugh and the call to weep, occa- sional dashes at the text, anything and everything that will make a hit, with extremely slight regard for the supposed theme. When he 1 Simeon Strunsky, iu the Atlantic Monthly for May, 1914, p. 627. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 159 comes to the final appeal you feel it is simply tacked on to satisfy custom ; indeed, you have a sense of surprise that a show should end that way. Three unities. There is need for unity of thought and this is the unity usually emphasized in the texts. What- ever is said, however many ideas are advanced, all should be subordinated to one central thought which all serve to develop. There is also a unity of feelmg. However many emotions are touched, all should blend to produce the desired mood. Both these unities enter into and are subordinate to unity of purpose; that is, all that goes into a speech should bear the test of promoting understanding,^ inducing belief, or influencing conduct, according to the speaker's aim in a given speech. Due attention to unity does not preclude variety. Variety in unity James declares '^the secret of all interest- ing'Taffi and thought." Other writers say, ''Variety in unity is the secret of sustained attention.'' ^ Unity you need ; variety you need ; there is no conflict. While you must turn attention from one aspect of your theme to another, you should turn to aspects of that part which is under consideration. And also, as indicated above, you gain variety by stating the same idea in different ways. Fix this in mind: Change does not require jumping from one topic to another ; or even to another part of the same subject than that under consideration. Nor is a higgledy-piggledy turning from point to point wdthin your proper scope suggested ; rather an orderly, coherent procedure, such as will encourage the efforts of your audi- ence to see the relations of part to part. To illustrate the foregoing we may turn to the selections, Who is to Blame? and Await the Issue, in Chapter XIV. Certainly these have variety, and their unity is admirable. There is progress ; each 1 Colvir and Bagley, Human Behavior. 160 PUBLIC SPEAKING paragraph serves to give a new view-point; yet each serves the central thought and turns attention to it again and again. So evi- dent is the central thought in each paragraph that careless sum- maries of the paragraphs will be much alike and will really be summaries of the whole. Lincoln's Gettysburg Address is a re- markable example of unity with progress and variety. "Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. "Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long en- dure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. *'But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot conse- crate — we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full tueasure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." (Delivered at Gettysburg, November, 1863.) Here is unity of thought : all serves to develop the proposition, popular government must be preserved in the world. Our fatherd established a free government ; this war is testing the durability of such government; we have met to honor those who have died that it may endure ; we cannot honor them, but we can catch inspiration from them and solemnly resolve that free government shall en- dure. Almost every sentence directly echoes or amplifies the central thought. There is unity of feeling: veneration for the fathers because of the work they wrought for free government ; sorrow for the dead, pride in their courage and gratitude for their sacrifices, and with all a glorying in the conviction that this is a struggle for human liberty ; — all these blend into high resolve to continue the struggle. That is to say, there is also unity of pur- pose : Lincoln wishes to honor the occasion and more to honor the dead ; but these purposes accomplished serve the grand purpose of inspiring his hearers and the country to greater sacrifices. There is a very real temptation to attempt too much in a single speech, and the speaker often feels that his ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 161 hearers ought to be capable of understanding several major thoughts in one period, and so they are ; but still experience proves that no audience is likely to carry away from a discourse more than one important thought ; that where there is not proper limitation, elimination and subordination of all to one central thought, the audience carries away little that is clear and well impressed, and that little as often the least important as the most im- portant. In exposition, in argument, and particularly in persuasion, there is need of pounding in" a single idea. The hearer, we must always remember, cannot, like the reader, review and ponder and so impress many thoughts on his mind. The speaker must resist the temptation to attempt too much, and consider that he has done well if he has clearly and forcefully expressed one thought ; very well indeed, if next day his hearers are able to state justly his main idea. Some analogies may help us to grasp the idea of unity. Al- though the painter may give his picture a wealth of detail, yet he will strive to make each detail accentuate the central figure. The statue of Lincoln, which stands in the park which bears his name in Chicago, has been said by a competent authority to owe much of its greatness to the fact that every line of the figure leads the observer's eye back to Lincoln's face. If this analogy seems to suggest that one should be forever circling about his theme and never going forward, let us compare a speech to a river which grows broader and deeper as it receives its tributaries, some of which have their sources far away, and bears all forward in unity. Too many speeches are like a stream flowing into a desert, throw- ing off one branch here and another there, until all is lost in the sand. A few specific warnings may assist in securing unity. Do not let yourself be led astray by mere association of ideas, such as guides most conversations. Each sentence may be related to its neighbors, and yet unity of the whole be lacking. To give an exaggerated example : 162 PUBLIC SPEAKING Speaking of California, I am reminded of her great prune orchards. Now prunes properly prepared are an excellent food. I do not mean as boarding-house keepers prepare them. Boarding house keepers are trying to give you as little as possible for your money. One can hardly blame them either, with the high cost of living, which does not seem after all to be lowered by the new tariff law. We had great hopes of better times when Wilson put his measures through ; but now it looks as if the House would go Republican this fall. But speaking of California, the Progres- sives and the women make that state doubtful. I don't know about women's suffrage, etc., etc. Absurd, do you say ? Of course, but very easy to fall into, and not much worse than the production of a dis- tinguished preacher who, declaring that Christianity must be militant, turned to the militant suffragettes for illus- tration and proceeded for several minutes to defend them, till the point supposedly being illustrated was quite swamped. Again, do not think you have unity because all you say is or can be related to one subject. You might say a thousand things about Lincoln that are not clearly re- lated to the particular theme, Lincoln's education. Per- haps many of those things could be twisted into some semblance of a relation to his education; yet upon the whole they would not serve to develop your main thought, or the right mood, or make for the end in view. And many of the ideas that might be forced into support of the central thought, are not worth while for the purpose in hand. Unity requires elimination as well as subordi- nation, and many an interesting fact, or seemingly bril- liant thought or expression, must be ruthlessly sacrificed. Unfortunately few of us have the courage of our judg- ment in this sort of self-sacrifice ; but the practical ques- tion is, Does this detail serve the purpose? When in doubt, omit, ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 163 Some preachers make the mistake of assuming that any thought which can be drawn from their text has proper place in their ser- mon. I heard a preacher and lecturer of some note preaching on the story of Caleb and the other spies who were sent by jNloses to investigate the land of Canaan.i After a discourse which touched on everything which chanced to be in the Doctor's mind that morn- ing, he drew these three lessons : 1. It is sometimes a duty to be a spy. Spying is not muckraking. 2. Those who make ventures of faith are rewarded. 3. The best years of life come after fifty. The speaker, then, should ordinarily narrow his theme and strive to hold attention to a single idea. If this results in monotony or tiresome repetition, it is because the speaker is not skilful ; he is not profiting by the les- son of variety in unity. It is also probable that his mind is not richly furnished with materials," and that for lack of sufficient analysis he has not viewed his subject in its various aspects and relations. Simplicity. Both Genung and Hart, authorities on rhetoric, say that unity and simplicity are the most es* sential elements in oratorical style. These are closely related ; yet a speech or a sentence may be both perfectly unified and very complex. We recall the need for econo- mizing the hearer's interpreting power. We may bor- row from Genung : - ' ' Words from the every-day vocabulary, simplicity and directness of phrase, a strong and pointed sentence struc- ture, an ordering of parts made lucid by marked indica- tions of plan and consecutiveness, reasoning where there is only one step from premise to conclusion and no solu- tion is left obscure or in long suspense, — these are the economizing agencies which adapt oratorical style to pop- ular apprehension. ' ' The plan of a speech should be simple and easily com- prehended. The sentences should not be involved or 1 Numlersj 13. 2 Working Principles, p. G53, 164 PUBLIC SPEAKING made heavy with many modifiers ; but there is little use in making dogmatic statements in regard to the respective merits of long and short sentences, or loose and periodic. The question in regard to any sentence is, "Will it be readily grasped ? A sentence may be very long and have many clauses, and yet be easy for the hearer. The last sentence of Who is to Blame? is an example; but the second sentence in the same paragraph has made much trouble. , We may say that sentences which require the hearer to carry forward much matter of which the bear- ing is not evident immediately, will weary an audience, if much employed. (See examples in Chapter XIII.) Coherence. Closely related to unity and simplicity is coherence. Tp cohere is to stick together. In coherent composition the relation of each part to its neighbors and ta the central thought is unmistakable. This would seem to be the requirement of unity, but the emphasis is upon unmistakable. Not only should every sentence and para- graph have a proper relation, but this should be made plain, in order that attention shall not be wasted. In securing coherence, much is gained by making a clear plan, with main-heads showing clearly their rela- tion to each other and to the theme, and with each sub- head clear in its relation to its main-head. Most stress is laid by the authorities, perhaps, upon clear sequence of ideas, as shown by clear transitions from sentence to sentence and from paragraph to paragraph. A review of college orations" shows that a too common method of seeking force, a sort of snapping, crackling force, is by trimming out connective words and phrases. These have been called the hooks and eyes of style," and cannot be dispensed with. In listening to such speeches one has difficulty in seeing the relation of sentences while keep- ing up with the speaker; and often one finds on exam- ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 165 ination, that this disconnected method of composing has encouraged the speaker in stringing together snappy" sentences which are not well related. For example : '*0n Virginia's historic soil has been proved the fact that Revolution may be but a stepping stone for Evolu- tion. Man is the center of all evolution. His moral growth or decay is irresistible. Innumerable problems of human progress are the unwelcome inheritance of every generation. To ignore these problems is fatal. America is rousing from a moral lethargy; a thrilling spirit of reform typifies the present age. The funda- mental evil of American society is the industrial basis upon which it stands. The State, institutions and men are judged from the standpoint of the almighty dollar. What are the results of this standard, what does it in- volve, and what is the remedy ? ' ' We shall dwell in Chapter XIII upon the effect of echoes, ^Hhe connective tissue of language," in binding to- gether a speech. Their use is especially notable in the Gettysburg Address. Another means is the use of parallel constructions ; that is, giving similar form to phrases of similar significance.^ Wendell speaks of ^Hhe amazing value of parallel construction," and he illus- trates with the Lord^s Prayer. A study of a master of speech composition, like Wendell Phillips, will reveal much use of connective words, echoes and parallel con- structions. I have chosen the following passage,^ not be- cause it is the most remarkable for coherence that could be found, but because it combines coherence with the abrupt force sought in the excerpt above. **In this mass of ignorance, weakness, and quarrel, one keen eye saw hidden the elements of union and strength. With rarest skill he called them forth and marshaled 1 Wendell, English Composition, p. 1.37. 2 From Phillips's oration on Daniel O'Connell. 166 PUBLIC SPEAKING them into rank. Then this one man, without birth, wealth, or office, in a land ruled by birth, wealth, and office, molded from these unsuspected elements a power which, overawing king, senate, and people, wrote his single will on the statute-book of the most obstinate na- tion in Europe. Safely to emancipate the Irish Catho- lics, and in spite of Saxon-Protestant hate, to lift all Ireland to the level of British citizenship — this was the problem which statesmanship and patriotism had been seeking for two centuries to solve. For this blood had been poured out like water. On this the genius of Swift, the learning of Molyneux, and the eloquence of Bushe, Grattan, and Burke had iDcen wasted. English leaders ever since Fox had studied this problem anxiously. They saw that the safety of the empire was compromised. At one or two critical moments in the reign of George III, one signal from an Irish leader would have snapped the chain that bound Ireland to his throne. His ministers recognized it ; and they tried every expedient, exhausted every resource, dared every peril, kept oaths or broke them in order to succeed. All failed; and not only failed, but acknowledged they could see no way in which success could ever be achieved. ' ' 0 'Council achieved it. Out of the darkness, he called forth light. Out of this most abject, weak, and pitiable of kingdoms, he made a power, and dying, he left in Parliament a specter which, unless appeased, pushes Whig and Tory ministers alike from their stools." Another important consideration in securing coherence is point of view. Rhetoricians ^ call attention to the fact that in describing a scene one should view all from one spot ; or, if one changes view-point, one should give due warning. If you were describing the campus as seen from the south end, and without warning began to de- scribe things as seen from the east, your hearers would be in a fine state of confusion. You will see, too, that many and rapid changes, even with warning, will be 1 Cf. Baldwin, Composition, Oral and Written, ij. 60, ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 167 troublesome. Now, the same confusion will arise if you try to speak of arbitration as seen by a soldier, a busi- ness man, a humanitarian, all at once; or if you too rapidly shift from one to the other. Unnoted shift from past to present or to future is also troublesome. Emphasis. A large element in speech-making, as re- gards both composition and delivery, is emphasis. Em- phasis attracts attention, and right emphasis attracts it to what should especially be noticed. The term might be extended to cover this entire chapter. In its narrower sense, emphasis is largely a matter of proportion, giving due space to the different ideas of a speech, h6lding at- tention longest upon what is chiefly to be impressed. For this purpose we use reiteration and amplification, as has been explained. The longer a topic is held before attention, — genuine attention, — the more importance it gains in the hearer's mind, assuming that attention does not reveal its inherent unimportance. Sufficient warn- ings have been given against the overuse of any of the means of attracting and sustaining attention, such as spe- cific enumeration and illustration, at points where em- phasis is not desired. Delivery. The resources of delivery are, of course, available for making a speech coherent and giving due emphasis to its parts ; but the speaker should not compose sentences and paragraphs which throw the burden of labored stress, inflection, etc., upon delivery. New- comer says,^ ^^One of the tests of good style is the ease with which a reader, reading the work aloud without previous acquaintance, will properly stress . . . the dif- ferent sentence elements." It is very commonly true that beginners will write their opening sentences so that their speech subject is swamped in the midst of numerous 1 Elements of Rhetoric, p. 192. 168 PUBLIC SPEAKING clauses. ''Seek so to place words," says Genung,^ ''that they shall emphasize themselves. ' ' It may be added that the practice of deliver}^, ^nd especially the interpretation and delivery of selections, tends to develop a sense of sound emphasis in composition. An admirable treatment of emphasis in composition will be found in Baldwin's Composition Oral and Written^ p. 19. Especially good is his illustration of bad emphasis by developing in the Gettysburg Address the less essential part devoted to the battle and shortening the appeal to the audience. "Use of texts on composition. I have no intention of giving in this text a systematic treatment of composi- tion. I only wish to emphasize those elements which class-room experience indicates as needing special atten- tion. A fair degree of knowledge of composition on the part of my readers must be assumed. For those lacking due preparation, and for all with regard to certain ques- tions, the references to other texts are given. "We should note that all that writers on composition have to offer on force, strength, energy or vigor of style, however named, is germane to the subject of attention; for as we recall from "Wendeirs definition,^ "force, the emotional quality of style,'' is "the distinguishing quality of a style that holds attention. ' ' Much that comes under this head has already been presented. I advise you to look up the references given, and in particular to read the chapter on Force in WendelFs English Composition^ and the chapters on Energy in Phelps and Frink's Rhetoric. The latter work has the advantage of being written from the speaker's view- point. It will be worth while to run over some of its headings here : First, the speaker must have forcible thought, thought to which forcible expression is appropriate. *'Do not take a sledge hammer to kill a fly." Then one should write or speak with enthusiasm. **Logic set on fire," is one of the definitions of eloquence. It is im- portant, further that one prepare with audience in mind, and also 1 Practical Rhetoric, p. 170. 2 English Composition, p. 23G. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 169 have some immediate object in view. But enthusiasm must be accompanied by self-possession. Delirium and convulsions are not strength. Dr. Phelps proceeds to discuss energy as affected by words, taking up pure words, Saxon words, specific words, short words, onomatopoetic words. He next considers the force of con- ciseness, and the weakness of verbosity. The arrangement of a sentence for emphasis, and the advantages and disadvantages of loose and periodic sentences are treated. A chapter is given to figurative language as an element in energy ; but by figures Dr. Phelps refers to certain methods of expression which later writers do not class as figures, — climax, antithesis, interrogation, colloquy, hyperbole, irony, exclamation, vision and apostrophe. Plainly enough all these are means of winning special attention. We need ^ote only the first three of these ^o-called figures of speech. Climax is more important in speaking than in writing. It seems to answer an instinctive demand of the hearer, and is the natural expression^of one who warms to his work. Anticlimax, when it is not burlesque, as in ^*he had a good conscience and a Eoman nose,'' is always weak. To proceed without increase of force gives much ! the same effect as anticlimax. As a rule, the order of i climax should be followed within the sentence, in the ar- rangement of sentences and in the plan of a speech, though there may often be good reason for departing ' from the rule. Wendell says^ that anticlimax is essen- ! tially false emphasis ; and a speaker realizes this in de- I livery, when his instinct prompts him to stress the ends of sentences, paragraphs and speeches. Antithesis is based on contract, with the force of which t we are already familiar. The antithetic structure makes a contrast sharper. *'A soft answer turneth a-^ay wrath ; but a grievous word stirreth up anger." — Proverbs. "The Puritans hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators." — Macaulay. **It is because Shakespeare dares, and dares very frequently. ... simply to be foolish, that he is so preeminently wise ; the others try to be always wise, and, alas! it is not necessary to com- plete the antithesis." — Saintshury, ^English Composition, p. 133. 170 PUBLIC SPEAKING Interrogation. Says Phelps: ''Few expedients of speech so simple as this are so effective in giving vigor to style. Composition comparatively dull may be made comparatively vivacious, and so far forcible, by a liberal u^e of interrogatives. . . . Put it to the hearer as if he must sharpen it by a response." Plainly enough, ques- tions tend to bring the conversational quality into deliv- ery, to bring speaker and hearer into contact. The virtue of interrogation is in its prompting the hearer to think for himself. Mr. Bryan says of it : ^ ''The interrogatory is frequently employed by the orator, and when wisely used is irresistible. What dy- namic power, for instance, there is in that question pro- pounded by Christ, 'What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? ' Volumes could not have presented so effectively the truth that he sought to impress upon his hearers. ' ' The effective phrase. There are college students who are far too fond of striking phrases, and who carry their labors to the point of affectation. They frequently try to make expression take the place of thought. It has been my fortune to meet, in large universities with many technical courses, more of those who despise any careful attention to phraseology. "What 's the odds if people only get it ? ' ' they demand ; and do not see that they beg the question. If one's words are not precise, or are of- fensive to the taste of one's hearers, if one's con- structions are cloudy and weak, then one's hearers do not "get it," or not with full force. The idea of effi- ciency, which has taken a strong hold upon present-day technical students, can be applied to language. The way 1 World's Famous Orations, Introduction. ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE ITl we do things counts. Those who can appreciate good form in pulling an oar or in driving a golf ball, ought not to be at a loss to realize the importance of the manner of expressing ideas. There is a false notion of sincerity which lies back of the notion that it is unworthy of a man to try to say things well. * ^ If a man has a worthy thing to say, ' ' ex- claimed Henry Van Dyke,^ shall he not think it worth while to find a worthy way to say itT' AVhat is it we instinctively object to? I do not believe the man lives who does not respond to really good expression. Is not our objection to the effort to make a commonplace idea sound profound, the use of the ^ ^feeble forcible" in an effort to make a puny thought startling ? The refusal to say a simple thing simply produces bombast, against which we properly react. There are those, also, who carefully avoiding the ^^highfalutin," and even honest eloquence, yet indulge in so much cleverness that one feels they are trying to be smart." They attract at- tention less to their ideas than to their way of expressing them. And this, like a showy gesture, is both ineffective and in bad taste. It is neither the ''big bow-wow," once so common in American oratory, nor affectedly clever expression, that is urged upon you; but just an honest effort to give effective, fitting expression to your thoughts and feelings, so that without waste they shall hold and impress the attention of your audience. And if your words, without attracting attention to their beauty and rhythm, give your audience pleasure, so much the better. Some stand by the great half truth : If you think 1 Caught from a sermon and perhaps not exactly Dr. Van Dyke's words. 172 PUBLIC SPEAKING clearly and vigorously, you will express yourself clearly and vigorously. It is true you cannot speak clearly and vigorously until you so think, and that clear, vigorous thought will tend to secure fiting expression ; but there is also need for study and strenuous endeavor. And we must remember that the very effort for clear, vigorous expression reacts to clarify and strengthen our thought. We should remember, too. that we are students, not masters ; and that if we are to be ready in the crises we look forward to, when with smoothly working minds and ready command of ample vocabularies, we shall meet un- expected emergencies, we shall have to train ourselves well. Those who would say. Just be natural, were Vv^ell answered by Professor George L. Burr in his address upon Robert Collier, the famous preacher, who in his eighties could still hold the delighted attention of his congregations: ^'I know thoughtless folk who found the secret of his power in what they called his * naturalness.' *Why, to him it was all natural; he only needed to be himself.' My friends, I knew him well. ... Do you think that to be natural costs nothing? Why, just to tell the truth is consummate art. Bluntness is not truth-telling. Bluntness is for those too lazy to tell the precise truth. . . . Read those letters of his early manhood . . . and compare them with the ripened magic of his later speech." Those who confuse muddled thinking and muddy expression with sincerity may learn again from that book of wisdom, Alice in Won- derland: *'Thpn you should say what you mean," the March Hare w^ent on. *'I do," Alice hastily replied ; "at loa^.t — at least I mean what I say — that's the same thing, you kno'W." "Not the same thing a bit !" said the Hatter. "Why, you might J'ust as well say that 'I see what I eat* is the same as *I eat what see* ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 173 Slang. There are some who seem to have no forceful way of expressing themselves save in slang. Slang is a matter to be treated with common sense. We must admit that its use is not a crime and that it is sometimes ef- fective. Nevertheless, I advise the young speaker strongly against any considerable indulgence in slang. First, we musT recognize that there are going to be many times when slang will be unwise and inappropriate. Yet we are such creatures of habit that, if we use it habitu- ally, we shall with difficulty avoid slang when we stand up to speak extemporaneously. And the effort to do so will greatly restrain our freedom. We shall be at a loss for words. Our sentences will frame themselves for our customary slang, which will either pop out in spite of us, or we shall have to hem and haw and start anew. If we cannot leave off our slang altogether, let us at least make a practice of leaving it out of our speech upon the plat- form ; let slang have no part in our platform conscious- ness. At most, let us use slang only when we are sure that no good English expression will do as well. In the second place, we must recognize that the con- stant use of slang limits our vocabulary. The English language has resources never dreamed of by the slangy person. He would need several good English expres- sions to convey all the meanings and shades of meaning which he covers with ' ' a peach, ' ' or ' ' going some. ' ' And mind you, this use of a single term for many shades of meaning indicates and encourages lack of discrimination in thinking. In the third place, we must recognize that what seems very effective to some may be very ineffective and even repulsive to those of better taste and judg- ment. That one may get a laugh by an atrocious bit of slang does not mean that it has served his real purpose. 174 PUBLIC SPEAKING There are many atrocious ways of drawing a laugh f ron: an audience, — sometimes a laugh from the more vulgar portion while the rest shiver. We should notice, of coilrse, that there is slang and slang ; that some is almost necessary in discussing certain themes in certain places, and that in any case there is a wide difference between such mild slang as something doing" and such a sense- less vulgarity as ''feed your face.'' But one who in- dulges greatly in slang is not likely to have a fine taste in the matter. Work to do. The student at this stage may make speeches in each of which he gives special thought to one of the suggestions of this chapter. Especially profitable will it be to select topics unpromising from the stand- point of interest, with a view to evoking as much interest as possible. He will profit also by the study of the ex- perience of others. For this purpose I advise at this point the study of the so-called occasional addresses, rather than speeches that have responded to personal or national crises; for crises are likely to supply interest regardless of the skill of the speaker. For the purpose, Baker's Forms of PulUc Address will be found as good as any single volume. Wood's After-Dinner Speeches is an interesting collection. Reed's Modern Eloquence, in ten volumes, contains speeches of all kinds in great number. Conclusion. To lay down a few simple, arbitrary rules for securing attention would seem very helpful, and would better satisfy a certain type of mind than a dis- cussion of principles; yet is it not manifestly a mistake to be dogmatic about matters so dependent upon condi- tions ? ' * It is better not to know so much than to know so much that isn't so." My only hope is that the stu- dent of this chapter will become intelligent in regard to its problems. I do not mean to say that one should use ATTENTION OF THE AUDIENCE 175 all or any of the methods of this chapter in a given case jjio ^ but I am confident that the principles will be found help- ful in most cases. Especially do I hope that they will aid in the interpretation of individual experience. CHAPTER VII THE EXPOSITORY SPEECH The second pui'pose of a speaker, in our classification, is to make clear, to explain. Exposition is not always easily distingnished from other forms of discourse ; but it is sufficiently accurate to say that when the chief pur- pose of a speech is understanding, the speech is exposi- tory, though the means may include narration, descrip- tion, and even argument. Importance of exposition. There are good reasons why the student of public speaking should give some atten- tion to exposition, although to convince and to persuade are more often his purposes. First, there are many times in which understanding is his final aim. This is particularly true in lectures, and is often true in busi- ness affairs. Secondly, exposition is often the basis of speeches which aim at conviction or persuasion. Most disputes are due to different understandings of facts. There can be no sound argument without clear exposition as its foundation. Sometimes all one has to do to win an argument, is to set forth lucidly the facts in the case. It is said that judges would often stop Lincoln after his statement of fact and before he began to argue, with '*Now we will hear the other side." To convince a man- ager that he should adopt a certain machine may re- quire only that you demonstrate its operatioa to him. Thirdly, the student finds the exposition of subjects in which he is interested quite as good as any other kind of THE EXPOSITORY SPEECH 177 speech for helping him to forget himself. There are probably more students interested in subjects adapted to exposition than in those adapted to argument; but all kinds should be used in practice. Speeches purely expository. In taking up the explana- tory speech, I advise that the first attempt be pure expo- sition; that is, a speech in which understanding is the final aim. If you choose to explain the Diesel engine, stop with explanation and avoid all argument that it is better than another type. If you choose to explain the ethical doctrine of hedonism, do not attempt to prove it right or wrong. Keep as far from advocacy as if you were explaining the seasons on Mars. This does not mean that you must be dull and cold. You should be highly interested ; but your dominant emotion should be desire to make your hearers understand. There is a reason back of this suggestion. If you are using your explanation as an argument, you are likely to neglect clearness and also to warp your exposition in your desire to advocate. You should learn to make the most impar- tial explanations. Indeed, you should make an impar- tial explanation, even w^hen you are to base argument upon it. Authorities agree to the doctrine, which young speakers find hard to accept and older ones to practise, that the introductory and incidental explanations in de- bate should be without bias ; not only because this is the honest method, but also because it is most effective to give an exposition which the other party must acknowl- edge fair. Argumentative speeches expository in method. After one has practised somewhat upon the purely expository speech, one may take up speeches in which exposition is used as a method of convincing or persuading ; for exam- ple, one may explain the commission form of government 178 PUBLIC SPEAKING in such a way that its virtues become apparent. We can see at once the temptation to distort the facts ; but prop- erly used this is as legitimate as any method of argument. Methods of exposition. It is not my purpose to discuss at length in this text the methods of exposition. The essential element is clearness, to which we have already given attention. First, one should analyze the topic or process or problem to be explained, in order to determine the elements that need attention, and to make under- standing easier by the consideration of but one feature at a time. Then there is need of clear definition of such terms as are unfamiliar, or are used in special senses, or terms of which the popular understanding is vague or confused.^ A third means of explaining is by giving ex- amples, as in the actual exhibition of articles or pictorial representations of them, or by citing instances. Much that has been said of illustration is applicable here. Of great importance in exposition is the comparing and con- trasting of what is to be explained with what is already understood, and this suggests again the need of knowing the information and the limitations of one's hearers. The English game of football, says a student, stands be- tween the American Association football and basketball. Assuming that this is sound, and that his hearers know the games mentioned, by indicating now the points of likeness and of difference, he can give them an under- standing of the English game. This is our standard method : This unfamiliar game, form of government, be- lief, automobile is like this familiar game, etc., except — . Clearly enough, the appeal to imagination is important in explaining things and processes not before the eyes. The selection of details, the order of their presentation, 1 A good example of definition will be found in Baker's Principles of Argumentation^ pp. 24-30. This is especially valuable as in- dicating the uses and the limitations of the dictionary. THE EXPOSITORY SPEECH 179 the suppression of what is not pertinent and helpful, unity, emphasis, coherence, point of view, — all these are important in exposition. For further study I suggest the chapter on Clearness in Wen- dell's English Composition, followed by what is said on exposition and the examples in Gardiner's Forms of Prose Literature, La- mont's Specimens of Exposition, with its introduction, Genung's Working Principles of Rhetoric and JelifiCe's Handbook of Exposi- tion. A more elementary work, Elements of English Composition^ by Gardiner, Kittredge and Arnold, contains a simple treatment of exposition with suggestive examples. Observe the means by which the explanations are made interesting ; and also the use of narration and of charts. Any good work on argumentation will furnish a treatment of exposition as an aid to argument. Examples of exposition should be studied in addition to those in the works referred to, which are for the most part not drawn from speech literature. The lecture is the form best adapted to our purpose. Find lectures that are pure exposition, and also those that utilize exposition in arguments, such as Huxley's lec- tures on Evolution. Pictures, charts and maps. I wish to make some simple suggestions that are the product of experience in my own classes ; and first in regard to the use of charts and the like. These are especially important in exposi- tion, and some explanations are impossible without them. A plan of battle, a machine, or a building, plainly enough need graphic representation, if accuracy of understand- ing is sought. We find too that complicated statistics, as of the increase of population or the increased cost of living, are better understood when worked out in '^curves.'' Stereopticon pictures, and even moving pic- tures, are likely to have a large part in instruction in the future. In using any graphic representation, be sure to have it large aud distinct enough for all to see, else it may prove only an annoyance. Superfluity of detail is a common cause of indistinctness. A map with only necessary 180 PUBLIC SPEAKING details and with sharp distinctions in colors, is better adapted to public work than the most complete publica- tion. It is unwise to embellish a diagram with details which are not pertinent. These are objectionable, not only as decreasing the distinctness of essential details, but as distracting attention and perhaps provoking curi- osity as to where they come into the explanation. Avoid complexity so far as you can. That is, if you are explaining the steam engine to those not learned in its workings, present a simple form of it, one which embodies the principle but lacks elaboration; then if it is desired to explain the elaborations, these may be sketched in or presented in a series of charts. President Schiirman, in his lecture on The Balkan Wars, shows a map of the Balkan countries before the first war of 1913 began ; another of the boundaries after this war, with the disputed ter- ritory indicated ; and a third map of the countries after the second war. A speaker who has confidence in his handling of chalk or crayon, may sometimes find it advantageous to de- velop his chart from the simplest outlines to its completed form as he speaks. This gives well the idea of progress and development ; as for instance in describing an army 's campaign. A speaker who attempts drawing on the platform should know precisely what he is going to do, what details he is to use and what scale is needed. Then he should practise the drawing to make sure he can do it. It is well, if the drawing presents any difficulty, to pre- pare paper with the whole or certain details and pivotal points faintly indicated, or with the bare outlines boldly marked. There are certain advantages over drawing on the plat- form, in a series of prepared charts. First, the series keeps a better means of comparison before the audience THE EXPOSITORY SPEECH 181 at all stages of the speech. To attempt to indicate dif- ferent stages with different colors or other means on one chart, is usually confusing. Secondly, the prepared charts are likely to be better made. Thirdly, drawing upon the platform may attract too much attention to it- /;elf as an act. Either very clumsy drawing or a display of skill may be too interesting, even amusing. Fourthly, drawing which requires much care may take the speaker's attention unduly from his audience. These comments, however, need deter no one from a few simple strokes. Here, as in all, the speaker's business is to keep atten- tion upon essentials. One should resist the temptation to look at a chart when not speaking of it. The young speaker especially finds his chart a welcome refuge from the eyes of his audiences; but also those not embarrassed find their charts drawing them unduly. The audience is only too ready to look at anything their attention is called to. It is often best to keep charts out of sight until they are needed, and to remove them from sight when their use is finished, unless to do so distracts attention more than their presence. A little preparatory ingenuity may well be exercised. Even when referring to his chart, the speaker should avoid as far as possible turning his back to his audience. A glance at the chart is enough to give him his direction and he can keep his eyes upon his hearers most of the time. He should avoid talking to the blackboard; lest he become indistinct and lose touch with his audience. Do not stand between audience and chart when it is in use. The speaker should stand to one side, facing the front as nearly as is convenient, and using for pointing the hand nearest the chart ; that is, if he is at the right of his chart he should use his left hand. It is best in 182 PUBLIC SPEAKING most cases to have a pointer, as this helps in keeping out of the line of vision. Degree of clearness. Wendell ^ defines clearness as ^'the distinguishing quality of a style that cannot be mis- understood/^ This sets up an ideal, but a good ideal to have in mind. Students of public speech are apt to take as their standard a style that can be understood, throwing upon their hearers rather than assuming themselves the task of making their thoughts as clear as possible. They rarely appreciate the difficulty of making one's thoughts clear. Painful experience brings home the truth that language is at best but a poor instrument, that it is in- deed difficult to tell the truth, and that to convey fully an idea above the grade of ^^It is now ten o'clock," is a marvel. Words have different shades of meaning in dif- ferent minds, and the prepossessions of one's hearers may make confusion of the most careful statement. Those who have an erroneous understanding of a matter will often adapt a correct explanation to their own mis- conception, hearing what coincides and ignoring what does not coincide with their expectations. It would be illuminating for the average student to give a class direc- tions for work and discover how many different under- standings a class of twenty-five will gain. The only safe standard is, be as clear as you can under the circum- stances ; and what you cannot make clear, do not attempt. Consider the audience. But clearness is a relative matter, and the question at once arises. Clear to whom? Must one seek to be clear to the youngest or least intelli- gent person present; so clear that *Hhe wayfaring man though" a fool need not err therein"? No, that might be to bore the more intelligent ; but on the other hand, one cannot afford to leave any large portion of an audience in 1 English Vompositionj p. 194. THE EXPOSITORY SPEECH 183 the dark. There is no rule to give ; one must simply treat the situation intelligently. But if he is simple and clear and concrete in his method, uses simple, idiomatic Eng- lish, and yet avoids all suggestion of children's talk, he can usually satisfy most of the intelligences in any audi- ence. The public speaker should eschew all affectation of profundity and high-sounding language ; and be as sim- ple as the nature of his subject and his purpose permit. In particular, he should not indulge in that false pro- fundity which is really only lack of clear analysis. College students and clearness. My observation is that students are to some extent unfitted for explanation be- fore general audiences by their school training. They are trained for many years in explaining in recitations, reports and examinations, to teachers who understand better than they themselves. In explaining to a teacher the aim is not really to make clear, but to convince the teacher that one understands. And the teacher, usually unable to put himself in the position of one uninformed, pressed for time, and pleased with some slight evidence of understanding, rarely insists upon a full explanation. As a result, the student does not come to feel the need for clear analysis (an analysis has usually been given him), of simplifying terms, of finding the best order, of repe- tition, illustration, helpful schemes, summaries, and all that makes for clear exposition to those who do not un- derstand in advance. When he addresses a general au- dience, he gives a few bare statements and wonders that he is not understood. Emotion and exposition. Gardiner^ stresses the fact that even in exposition, the coldest form of discourse, we -sannot disregard the feelings of our audience. By this 1 Forms of Prose IMerature, pp. 56, 61. 184 PUBLIC SPEAKIN( he means chiefly that we must make our exposition in- teresting. But our hearers may be more than indiffer- ent; they may be prejudiced. They may be so accus- tomed to a certain way of thinking, or method, or machine, that they positively object to hearing of any other. Audiences may easily be found who would object to the most impartial attempt to expound to them evolu- tion, the peace propaganda, or socialism. It may be necessary before explanation is attempted, to interest such an audience, perhaps somewhat indirectly, in the distasteful topic. In general, tact is needed. Tact may be needed also to avoid boring or even offending the better informed portion of an audience, while explaining elementary facts to the less informed; and more in cor- recting the mistaken notions of those who think they understand. A speaker need not say bluntly that his audience is ignorant; but may present the matter as if reviewing or setting in order, or he may say that he will state for the benefit of a few what many of the audience are probably familiar with. CHAPTER VIII PEBSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT It is convenient to use the word persuasion when we come to treat of influencing conduct. The word is not without its difficulties, since usage varies; yet there seems to be no good substitute. A review of the au- thorities justifies us in accepting tentatively Whateley 's ^ definition of the word: ''Persuasion, properly so- called, i. e., the art of influencing the will.'' To influ- ence the v^ill is identical with influencing conduct, and includes inducing or checking single acts or affecting a prolonged course of conduct; but, as we shall use the term persuasion, it is not limited t^ooaducing physical acts, but include^ changing thc^niental attitude, as by removing prejudice, bringing aoout a fair-minded atti- > tude tov/ard a person, a willingness to consider a proposi- ■ tion, or a desire to accent jt^ The term is broad enough- : to include conviction, but it is convenient to use the latter term to designate the process of ''bringing any one to reeogni^^e the truth of vs^hat he has not before accepted." ^: In tho usage of mauy persiiarnon and convioHon are synonyms, as are also the verbs persuade anu convince; that is, persuasion is used to cover the meanings ascribed to both above, though conviction is liraited to inducing belief. Thus, the 'New Eaglish Dictionary de- fines persuasion as "the presenting of inducements or winning argu- ments, the addressing of reasonings, appeals, entreaties to a pei-son to do or believe something." But when the words are distinguished, they are most often distinguished as above; and, al. least so far as the verbs are concerned, there is some tendency to insist upon the I Elements of Rhetoric, p. 117. ^ New English Dictionary, PUBLIC ; KING flistinction. The same dictionary defines persuade: *'To induce to bel}^ i'e something"; but adds that this use is "somewhat archaic." It then gives the further definition : "To induce or win to an act or a course of action ; to draw the will of another to something by inclining his judgment or desire to it; to prevail upon, or urge successfully to do something." The Century Dictionary says : "To convince a person is to satisfy his understanding as to the truth of a certain statement ; to persuade him is, by derivation, to affect his will by motives, but it has long been used also for convince. . . . There is a marked tendency now to confine persuade to its own dis- tinctive meaning." Femald's Synonyms distinguishes thus : "To persuade is to bring the will of another to a desired decision by some influence exerted upon it short of compulsion ; one may be con- vinced that the earth is round ; he may be persuaded to travel around it." And the following is from Smith's Synonyms Discriminated: "To persuade has much in common with convince ; but conviction is the result of the understanding, persuasion of the will. . . . We are convinced of truth and facts. We are persuaded to act and be- have. . . . We may be persuaded to act against conviction." In dealing with words so lacking in precision, we can only fix upon meanings for ourselves, preferably those supported by the best usage, and then try to follow them consistently. Those to whom the term persuasion means inducing to believe usually distinguish it from conviction by saying that to persuade is to secure belief by rather emotional methods, while to convince is to use logic and reasoning. So The Standard ^Dictionary says per- suade means "to induce to believe willingly." 'Here we have, prob- ably, a hint of why the words convince and persuade have been con- fused : To induce a man to believe it is often necessary to make him willing to consider the proposition at all, to remove prejudice and induce a willingness to believe. Now this is a matter of emotional attitude, and changing emotional attitude is included in the proper work of persuasion. In this position I have the support of Baker's Principles of Argumentation, in which it is said (p. 7) : "Convic- tion aims only to produce agreement between writer and reader; persuasion aims to prepare the way for the process of conviction and to produce action as the result of conviction." i 1 T am aware that a seemingly simple way to cut the Gordian knot of these entwined meanings is to declare that inducing to believe and to act are one and the same thing. I admit that we secure the two ends by much the same processes, but that does not make them identical. It seems to be chiefly a matter of how much meaning one^ gives the term helicve. If we say the only difference between believing and acting is one of extension, still we must recognize that difference. [ cannot bring myself to this easy solution. The dis- tinction seems to me a valuable one, and it certainly is imbedded the common sense of the race. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 187 There are those who feel that the word persuasion is tainted with a suggestion of improper methods. This probably arises from the erroneous belief that our emotions are necessarily unworthy. Emo- tions are important in persuasion, and they may be used improperly, just as false facts and fallacious reasoning may be employed. At* any rate, please understand that in all our discussion persuasiodi is free from any moral implication. Belief and action. Nothing would seem to be a plainer lesson of experience than that we mortals often leave undone those things we know we ought to do and do those things we know we ought not to do ; yet this truth is constantly ignored by speakers, and with bad results. This truth is proverbial : * ' The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak''; Video melm^a prohoque; deteriora sequor. Certain knowledge that lack of exercise is ruining one's health does not necessarily drive one out of doors; yet one does not for a moment believe that one's work or pleasure is worth the cost. There must be, then, more than intellectual acceptance of truth to secure action. It may seem absurd to insist upon such a truism as that men do not always act in .accordance with judgment; but I write out of memory of classroom struggles. When regarding a cold, barren, tactless speech I have asked, ''What elements of persuasion does this contain?" I have received the answer, ''Does it not prove my claim? What more is needed?" Apparently I have appeared a shocking cynic when I have suggested that men are not always gov- erned by pure reason. What marvels we should be if we lived up, as is assumed, to all we agree to in the words of our preachers ! But— *'T'he sermon now ended, Each turned and descended. The eels went on eeling. The pike went on stealing : Much delighted were they. But — preferred the old way." Persuasion an everyday matter. Iiet us get clearly in mind that we are not dealing with an artificial or i; usual problem. When you induce a man to joi party, or buy an auto nobile, or improve his habits PUBLIC SPEAKING fishing with you, or pay his bills, or open his mind to the possibility that the Germans, or the English, are well- meaning men, you are persuading him. Persuasion is as familiar as living, and you will recognize at once its means, such as arguments, motives, suggestions, personal fmfluence, tact. Importance of persuasion to the speaker. When Henry Ward Beecher said : ^ ' ' I define oratory to be the art of influencing conduct with truth sent home by all the re- sources of the living man," he was expressing the ancient and true belief in regard to the peculiar- and highest purpose of public speech. Not all speech-making is oratory, but there can be little doubt that the chief pur- pose of public speaking is persuasion. It is in persua- sion that the spoken word is superior to the written. Speaking generally, the written word is more effectual for making ideas clear ; but when men are to be aroused to act, to vote, to change a habit, to adopt a course of conduct, to kindle with enthusiasm, then the speaker is needed. Let us glance at the more common forms of public discourse. College lectures form an exceptional group ; their end is usually in- struction. But when a college professor delivers a lecture which has as its end the cultivation of a taste for good literature, or a high sense of professional honor, he is persuading. On Chautauqua and lyceum platforms some lectures are for entertainment, some for in- struction, but many are persuasive, as those by Bryan and by La- Follette. In deliberative speeches, before legislatures, conventions, or on the stump, wherever policies are to be decided by vote, persuasion is prominent in the appeal to motive, the arousal of feeling and the recognition of prejudice. In the pulpit persuasion is the dominant note ; exposition and argument are but moans to the end of influenc- ing conduct. All other kinds of speei/hes are loosely classed as Occa- vonal. It is true that their end often seems to be mere entertain- or the display of the speaker's powers, as in Webster's over- ture entitled Oratory. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 189 rated Bunker Hill addresses. But the more serious *>^rpose of such memorial addresses, addresses at celebrations and l. ^o^gies, is to inspire the hearers to greater patriotism or nobler living. Lincoln's Gettysburg Address is a model in miniature for all such orations. The moral is not always pointed ; the most persuasive speeches ofteu let the exhortation be implied. Even at jovial banquets few speakers will be content merely to *'give a stunt" ; there is usually a persuasive point. The fun is used for a purpose beyond itself ; though there are occasions when any serious purpose is manifestly out of place. But most banquets at w^hich there is speaking, are not merely jovial. It was at the annual dinner of the New England Society, in December, 18TG, that George William Curtis delivered his speech on The Puritan Principle : Lib- erty under the Law, which, though it began humorously and blended with the spirit of the occasion, yet, in the judgment of Edward Everett Hale, turned the nation from civil war over the contested presidential election of that year. With regard to forensic addresses, it is well known that lawyers indulge in more than logical discussion of the evidence ; and even before the highest court persuasion has its place. Webster's plea before the Supreme Court in the Dartmouth College case is the stock example. Gardiner's Forms of Prose Literature (pp. 79, 31G) fur- nishes opportunity for an interesting study of Joseph Choate's argu- ment against the Income Tax law of 1894, with reference to its persuasion. Hearers classified with reference to persuasion. First, there are those who come already in agreement with the speaker. Of these there are some (a) eager to follow his lead ; as is the case with strong partizans listening to a speaker of the same political party. These the speaker may consider among his assets, helpful by their sym- pathy and also by their influence in moving other ele- ments in the a^iience. (b) There may be others in agi'eement who are as yet indifferent. Some of these may be of the small-pot-soon-hot" kind, who are also soon cooled. They may serve as a sort of kindling wood, with their easy enthusiasm ; but since they cannot be de- pended upon the: , le despair of earnest workers. They are txfe ''sto nd hearers" of the parable of 190 PUBLIC SPEAKING the seed-so^^ ng. The problem is ' ^^en their convic- tions an I to make upon them an onduring impression. There may be others in agreement but without keen in- terest, who are phlegmatic and diflScult to arouse. They lie heavily on the speaker's spirits; but may be better worth effort than the class just referred to. They are likely to stay by. Secondly, we may have in our audience a neutral ele- ment, (a) There are likely to be some who may be won by simply awakening their interest; or who may easily be thrown into opposition by tactlessness. They require little argument ; and will be little affected by argument, once in opposition, (b) The far more important divi- sion of the neutral group consists of those who listen judicially. They will give a fair hearing; but they will scrutinize every statement and argument, and will resist every attempt to sweep them from their intellectual moorings by emotional appeal. They have to be shown that the proposition is sound and the motives sufficient. Such men are likely to be of weight in the audience and in the community, and are worth the winning. Here we first come upon a class whose winning calls notably for argument. The third grand division consists of those in active opposition, (a) One group of these is composed of the unthinking, against the proposal because they do not un- derstand it, or because it is new and runs counter to their traditions, prejudices and habits. To their minds the proposal is simply not to be thought of; and they will refuse a genuine hearing unless by a tactful ap- proach, explanations, or the presentation of some strong motive, their attitude is changed, (b) Most doughty opponents of all are those who have ccr^sidered the proposition and decided against it. For them the mat- JN— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 191 tCx ^ and they listen with resisting minds, hear- ing argUi. 3 for the proposal only to rebut them. But since they ar»^ thinking men, if their minds can be opened to genuine reconsideration, they may be won by cogent argument. Most difficult of all, almost hopeless in fact, are those who, whether thoughtful or not, see in your proposal danger to their selfish interests, or those whom pride, affections, or established beliefs hold on the other side. Such a classification might be much elaborated and varied ; and is, of course, rather artificial. The thinking man is not free from prejudice, the prejudiced man may be a clear thinker once preju- dice is allayed, the indifferent man may become an enthusiast, and a man light-minded when approached in one way may be serious approached in another. Nevertheless, the classification helps us in understanding our problem, especially in realizing the important fact that *'many men have many minds." Our plan. To treat fully each of these groups would require a volume; but by considering two of the prob- lems suggested rather fully, we shall be able to under- stand the others. Eoughly speaking, we shall in this chapter deal chiefly with those hearers who are not so much to be convinced that the speaker's proposal is sound as aroused to interest and action ; while in the next chapter attention will be given chiefly to those who must first be convinced. The foundation principle of persuasion. We now need a principle by means of which we can systematize the suggestions for persuasion drawn from common experi- ence. Why do we will to do or not to do? We turn again to Professor James: ^ ^'What holds attention determines action. ... It seenis as if we ought to look for the secret of an idea's impulsiveness ... in the urgency with which it is able 1 Briefer Course, p. 448. X^fhgspx .- PUBLIC SPEAKIN to compdl attention and dominate in c ^ct it once so dominate, let no other ideas displac- ing it, and whatever motor effects belong lx, Dy nature will inevitably or-cur. ... In short, one ^:loos not see any case in which the steadfast occupancy of consciousness does not appear to be the prime condition of impulsive power. It is still more obviously the prime condition of inhibitive power. What checks our impulses is the mere iJ^inking of reasons to the^eotitrafy— it is their bare pres- / enee iiT the mind which gives the veto, and makes acts, ijotherwise seductive, impossible to perform. If we could only forget our scruples, our doubts, our fears, what ex- ultant energy we should for a while display ! ' ' ^ ^'Consent to the idea's undivided presence, this is effort's sole achievement. Its only function is to get this feeling of consent into the mind. And for this there is but one way. The idea to be consented to must be kept from flickering and going out. It must be held steadily before the mind until it fills the mind." ^ ^''We thus find that we reach the heart of our inquiry into volition when we ask by what process it is that the thought of any given action comes to prevail stably in the mind.'' Support for this theory is abundant. Thus Angell says : 3 "Vo- lition is nothing more or less than a matter of attention. When we can keep our attention firmly fixed upon a Kne of conduct to the exclusion of all competitors, our decision is already made." And Titchener says : * *'So far as I can see the term 'will' affords the best general title for two great groups of psychological facts : the facts of attention and the facts of action. There can, I thin^, be no doubt that these two groups are intimately related, that action is simply a special case of attention." * * What holds attention determines action. " To do an act, then, give it exclusive attention. To resist an im- pulse, keep your mind upon other ideas, reasons why 1 Briefer Coursey p. 452. Idem , p. 450. ^ Pf^chology, p. 39'^. Cf. Creightou, The Will, p. 26 ; Pillsbury, Attrntion, p. 1(15 and EsscntiaU of Psychologi/, pp r;01 1 ■ Thorn- dike, Elements of PsiKliology, pp. 27^)-2l>l. Feeling and Attention^ p. 297. PERSUASION— INFj;\JENCING CONj. you should not, ''inhibiting ideas''; or, better, ^. easier, upon some otlier line of conduct. If I wis. stay at work thi^ , afternoon, I must not let my min dwell on tfe^^bltt^ame, but keep it steadily on the work and the joy of getting it done. We see this principle working out freely in the young child. He reaches for the moon because the impulse to reach for it is not yet associated with the uselessness of so doing. When the unwise mother says to her child of three, "Don't scratch the piano with that nail," Johnny, who had not thought of such a deed, now has his mind filled with the image of a fine scratch in the varnish, and toddles straight for the piano, — unless he has already had such experience with his mother's donHs that an inhibiting image of pain comes to divide and dominate his attention. We may draw illustrations from certain abnormal states : A man may gradually become obsessed with the thought of committing a crime. More and more he finds it difficult to drive the idea from his mind ; less and less is he able to keep in mind the reasons why he should not do the deed. He becomes a monomaniac and, unless restrained, will commit the crime. In the hypnotic state whatever action is suggested holds exclusive attention ; no inhibiting idea of absurdity comes to mind, and a suggestion is at once followed. Action after deliberation. The principle set forth is not applicable merely to those actions performed ^'just because they occurred to us " ; but equally to action after deliberation. It is after a careful analysis of the **five types of decision,'' that James arrives at the conclusions quoted. Whether we weigh the pros and cons long and carefully, or give a '^snap'' judgment, we must come to a time when we push one set of ideas out of mind and give full attention to the other and opposing set; when the thought of one course of action, in Baldwin's words,^ swells and fills consciousness." The man of deter- mined action does not let his attention fix itself again upon the rejected possibility, lest he become a whiffler. Having put his hand to the plow, he goes forward and 1 Handbook of Psychology, p. 355.^ PUBLIC SPEAKING . back. He must not hang vacillating, like ^, between ''to be or not to be/' to do or not to do, ... the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o 'er with the pale cast of thought. ' ' We recall the sad fate of the classic donkey, that chancing to stop precisely halfway between two cocks of hay, was unable to choose between them and so starved to death. It seems to be the task of the persuader to turn such a poor beast about till he squarely faces one heap and say, "Go to it and if possible to put on blinders to cut off the backward look. The man of weak, unstable will seems to be one who cannot face unpleasant facts and rally to his support the ideas of remote conse- quences. "Let 's not think of that," he says.i As an aid to assimilating this thought, work out this problem : What might be said to a company of timid recruits about to go under fire? Theory of persuasion. To persuade a man, then, seems to be nothing more or less than to win his undivided attention to the desired conduct, to make him think of that and stop thinking of other courses, or of any inhibit- ing ideas. ^ At this stage we may venture a new defini- ^ion of persuasion, one which would have been meaning- less before, and which may not be entirely clear till we are in the next chapter. Persuasion is the process of in- ducing others to give fair, favorable, or undivided atten- tion to propositions. We have now the satisfaction of knowing that all we have learned about interest and at- tention will serve us in solving this master problem of the art of public speech. 1 Pillsbury, Attention, p. 163; James, Briefer Course^ p. 451, Talks to Teachers, 187. 2 ''To produce a given act in any person thus commonly implies the arousal of the mental state which has tha*: act as its sequent, and also the suppression of conflicting or competing mental states." Thorndike, Elements of Psychologp, p. 2''»;. Persuasion "is simply the act of holdiiiu' the favorable attention long enough for the stimulus to enter int*- fitictlve combination with PERSUASION— IN^Ll^?^'^^^^ ^O^DUCT 195^ If some readers cannot accept this theory at once because of pre- conceptions, this fact need not trouble them in following the rest of this discussion; for surely all must assent cO the high importance in persuasion of winning favorable attention. The theory, however, rests upon the best of authorities, and I am not aware that any authority qualifies it in any way that affects its practical application to our work. There is a conventional theory of persuasion, so intei*woven with the literature of this subject that we should note it briefly before proceeding. This theory is based upon the conception, not now in favor, that our minds are divided into^ tbr^e^jiaits^ intellect, emotion, will. To persuade, we are toM, one must satisfy, ov~ov(^'oweYy the intellect ; then arouse the emotion, which in turn will move the will. "We first know, then feel, then act," says a text on argumentation. ^ "Emotion is conditioned on apprehension, volition on emotion, action on volition." This theory is artificial and leads to certain errors in , practice which we shall note further on; but still it may be w^elll enough harmonized with the theory we shall work with : To satisfy the intellect is to bring to attention reasons for the desired conduct, and to remove objections from attention ; and arousal of emotion in regard to an action is a sure way to win attention to it. Emotion and persuasion. It is quite correct to insisf/ upon the importance of emotion in persuasion. As al-l ready said, ideas which arouse emotion hold attention. I And, as J ames says,^ * ^ When any strong emotional statF^ whatever is upon us, the tendency is for no images but such as are congruous with it, to come up. If others by chance offer themselves, t^^y a/e instantly smothered and crowded out. If Joyous, we cannot keep thinking of those uncertainties and risks of failure which abound upon our path ; if lugubrious, we cannot think of new triumphs, travels, loves, and joys ; nor if vengeful, of our oppressor's community of nature with ourselves." In persuasion, then, we wish to allay emotions that will keep objections in mind, such as dislike for the means or other effective processes in consciousness." Hollingwortii, Adver- Using and SeUing, p. 133. 1 Briefer Course, p. 451. 19G PUBLIC S5EAJiiNEAKING for the wrong. You belie ye that a certain church or sect is based upon superstition . perhaps yQU believe it an evil institution. Would you hesitate to rally the adher- ents oi iliut church, to support a good cause by pointing out that the interf sts of their church are involved ? Sup- pose you were dealing with a mob bent on murder ; would you play on their desire for plunder in another direc- tion ? This, like other questions of platform ethics, does not differ essentially from the problems of our everyday intercourse. Each case must be decided on its merits. I do not mean to suggest any moral looseness in dealing with these questions. They should be treated seriously ; but when we consider their complexity and how the noblest motives have moved men to the foulest deeds, we hesitate to be dogmatic. Professor Bater has spoken wisely upon motives : ^ \ Choose the highest motive to which you think your I audience will respond. If a speaker feels it necessary to appeal to motives not of the highest grades he should see to it that before he closes he makes them lead into higher motives.'' Professor Baker illustrates with Beecher's Speech at Liverpool, in which the orator dur- ing our Civil War was struggling with a very hostile audience of Englishmen. He argued that if slavery were abolished in the South, England would find a better market there for her goods, but ^*he connected this ap- peal with the far higher motives of mere justice and the good of humanity. . . . What gives its significance to [this] suggestion ... is that few men are willing to ad- mit that they have acted from motives considered low or mean. Even if they suspect this to be the case, they en- deavor to convince themselves that it is not true. In an audience each man knows those about him see wnat moves him in the speaker's words and therefore he yields most readily to a motive which he knows is generally com- 1 Principles of Aroumimiation^ p. 321, PERSUASION -INFLUENCING CONDUCT 199 mended — religious feelings, charity, devotion to one's country, etc. . . Since, then, men yield more willingly to motives ge orally commended, and since unanimity of action is more easily gained when the highest motives are addressed, this corollary to the suggestion last made may be formulated : The larger the audience, the highej: the motives to which an appeal may be made. ' ' ^ The last sentence of the quotation suggests a correla- tive truth, one that should make us chary of sweeping,^ dogmatic assertions, — that it is more difficult to appeal; to the higher emotions of a small than of a large audi- ence. We all know the uneasy, half -shamed feeling which men feel if lofty motives are attributed to them when but few are together; and this feeling is espe- cially strong when the members of the group are well known to each other. It is a curious fact that we often refuse to admit our best motives. There would be few among those who have attended military training camps this summer who would confess to a higher motive than a desire for fun or physical fitness. And if brought to a confession of patriotism, they w^ould not use the word, but say shamefacedly, ^^Well, every fellow ought to^|3e ready to do his share.'' Tact is more needed in appes^- ing to the best motives of a small than of a large group. Often tact is a matter of phraseology. It may consist ih avoiding words of sentiment. More acceptable at times than, To do this is noble and generous, is it to use the seemingly ruder form. Not to do this is mean and con-' temptible. We are thinking now of audiences under ordinary cir- cumstances. We should note that in times of stress and excitement, an audience, large or small, will respond to a broad appeal which ordinarily they might receive with grins or blushes. PUBLIC SPEAKI>.G While motives are frequently mixed, we need not cynically attribute right actions to stylishness, ambition or fear of public opinion. The averagt ban really in- tends to do the right thing once his sense of responsibility is aroused. Most of us have certain principles of con- duct, duty, honesty, honor, courage and generosity, in accordance with which we must live if we are to retain our self-respect. Moreover, while we follow some lines of conduct because they are easy, popular and profit- able, we may, in more heroic mood, be attracted by the hard, the dangerous, and the self-sacrificing course. The New York Times i quotes "a shrewd public man in this city [who] was, on one occasion, discussing the probable future of David B. Hill, then seemingly in command of the politics of this state : ** *Mr. Hiirs success may be called self-limiting, and I think the limit is approaching. His conception of politics has two serious defects. He appeals chiefly to the [self-] interest of his associates and subordinates, and sooner or later he cannot satisfy them, for there is not enough profit to go around. And he does not understand the tremendous influence of a moral issue on public sentiment.' " A story ex-President Taft tells of himself suggests the attitude of the average man toward duty when plainly seen. He says 2 that when Secretary of War Root asked him to go out as governor of the Philippines, the proposal ran counter to both his tastes and his am- bitions, and he refused. But when Mr. Root put it to him squarely that he had had a series of pleasant government positions and that now his country needed him for a more arduous duty, he yielded. To restate: Do not fear to appeal to the best senti^ ments in your hearers. Assume they are better rather than worse than they are. They may respond to lower motives, but may also gladly rise to a higher plane. Fairness. One of the appeals to which men are ashamed not to respotid, is that for fair play. Very few will rest easy under the imputation of unfairness. The average man who is really convinced that denial of the 1 April 7, 1014, 2 In a speech at the commencement dinner of the alumni of Ham* ilton College in 1013. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 2l ballot results :n injustice to women, will vote for women 's suffrage. The appeal to the sense of fairness is of special importance in handling hostile audiences. Beecher at Liverpool, facing an audience partly composed of roughs present for the express purpose of breaking up the meet- ing, exclaimed early in his speech, ' All I ask is simply fair play ! ' ' Applause followed and for several minutes the interruptions ceased. A Scotch friend of mine went out to preach, some twenty years ago, on one of Chicago's worst corners, which had four saloons and was in the center of the district where lived the anarchists who threw the fatal bomb at the Haymarket riot. The crowd, which believed him sent by the hated capitalists, pushed him off the sidewalk, spit upon him and badgered him till preaching was impossible. *'Is not this America?" he shouted. "Shall I not have free speech?" *'Yes," they replied, "and so shall we "But you give me no chance ; give me five minutes." The crowd voted that fair and listened. Desire for approval and admiration. While I have em- phasized self-respect, there is no doubt that men are strongly drawn ^>y the chance to impress their fellows with their prowess or importance ; and this shows itself in large and in petty ways. Men will undertake great enterprises, ind undergo great hardships and sacrifices for the sako of reputation and power. Some men will be won to u cause for which in the beginning they care nothing, by being given a chance to display their powers in workir g for it. Others may be won from indifference to activn support by some small concession which in- creases .heir sense of self-importance, such as a seat on a platfor Ji or appointment as usher. A badge will accom- plish wonders. Others whom we feel less petty, will risk their lives for little iron crosses. *'You call these toys,'' Napoleon is reported to have said to one who ridiculed the insignia of the Legion of Honor, ^'let me tell you that men are ruled by toys ! ' ' Pride in certain manifestations PUBLIC SPEAKING we call vanity, and again we speak of a ,'ent respect I for the opinions of others''; but in ai v ;ise we know | that we are much influenced by the r sro for the ap- proval and admiration of our fellows. What would you say to a group of boys to deter them from climb- ing in perilous places? Can you make a better sign than "Danger — Keepor-7 ^^/^ ^ ^J^^^^^^^j^ Eivalry. Very clqse to the preceding is tfie desire to ^ emulate, to equal or to surpass others. We desire prop- | erty, power and reputation less for themselves than for ; the relative position they give us. This desire to emu- \ late, also, takes the most petty and the most noble forms, , from the desire to have a better front gate than one 's i neighbors to the desire to have one's town cleaner than ; a neighboring town, from competition in eating beef- steak to competition in acts of courage and sacrifice. This motive is much relied upon by those who wish to ^ arouse either individuals or commUi.nties. Such and ^ such a town has a paid fire department, twenty miles of ^ paved streets, playgrounds : why cannot t jis to'^vn, with - its higher grade of citizens, do as well or bet' er? So and ^ so of your class has subscribed $1,000 to the a'ujjini fund : cannot you do as well? From our earliest days we are ■ seeking to do as some admired person does, or . etter than some one we dislike or envy. Contrast must be made, of course, with some person, institution or community one's hearers wish to emulate or surpass, else c ne may get an answer like that of a small boy to his mothe r when ' sFie points out a model of decorum, ''Who cares what that j sissy does?" ■ Fear. We have emphasized the things men desire, and i this is ordinarily the better note to strike ; but we must I not forget that men still live much under the dominion PERSUASION—INFLUENCING CONDU of fear. Tl are held back from the step we alone by dislike for it, or opposing desires, but also by dread of unpleasant consequences public disapproval of a departure from the path. Fears must be driven from mind by presentation of the pleasure, profit, or honor of urged. But when positive methods prove inau we may warn of the dangers of the wrong course, creac mg a fear great enough to dominate attention and oust from mind the fear already existing. A white feather stuck in his coat lapel drove many an Englishman to enlist in 1914. The series of posters displayed by the British gov- ernment in the first year of the war would repay study from the standpoint of motives. Consider the motives touched by this one, said to have been effective : the picture of a boy looking up to his father and asking, "Father, what did you do in the Great War?* Not always best to mention motives. It should not be assumed that we should always be baldly urging or ap- pealing to our audiences to do some act. Action may follow as a matter of course upon knowledge or convic- tion. Tell a boy he is wanted to pitch a game of base- ball, a charitable man that there is a suffering family in the next block, or convince a conscientious man that a certain course is right, and there is no need of dwelling on motives. The mind of the one addressed supplies all that is needed, and in many cases his response is with- out conscious emotion, being an habitual reaction.^ Often the speaker s task is only that of identification; he shows that the proposed course is profitable, noble, fash- ionable, will win votes, give pleasure, and that is all that is needed. If any argument at all is called for, it is in establishing the fact that the means will reach the end. To dwell upon motives may at times be offensive. 1 Cf. .Tames, Psychology, Vol. II, p. 536. PUBLIC SPEAKINC take pride in their good citi/eii>i.ijp may not openly urged to do their duty to their city, like to be preached at; many of the most rmons omit the exhortation. The preacher es vice ugly and virtue desirable ; or he makes course which an honesty clean, generous man ish to follow ; and when he has brought the truth ividly into his hearer's consciousness, he leaves it to do its work. And because most men wish to be honest, clean and generous, they are likely to respond to the challenge. At other times the most positive methods and baldest appeals to emotion are in order, to turn men from strong habits or fascinating leadership, or to overcome strong hostile emotions. There are times, too, when the appeal must be made, but less openly. Much depends upon the character of the audience and the spirit of the occasion. Much depends, also, upon the relation of the speaker to his audience. A young man would hardly venture to exhort an audience of Civil War veterans to patriotism. If he exhorted at all, he would exhort the young men present to emulate their elders, and in so doing he might stimulate the veterans to live, up to the reputation given them. When familiar motives must be emphasized, care should be taken to avoid implying moral delinquency on the part of the audience, unless it be deliberately deter- mined that severity is in order. Care should be t^ken also to avoid boring by trite presentation of familiar motives; especially if the motive dwelt upon be duty. Often one's hearers have heard certain standard argu- ments and pleas till they slip off attention ''like water fi'om a duck's back." Take, for example, the exhorta- tion to political duty. A new setting is needed; new facts and new illustrations. Pleas are often reinforced PERSUASION— INFLUENCIF rO>^DUCT 205 by stories of heroism from the p ;',t, and some of these are badly overworked; yet some which gather about themselves strong emotions can be told with great per- suasive effect. Keligious pleas are often founded upon vh^id recitals of the Exodus or of the Crucifixion. ^ Appealing for sympathy. We read that the ancients would endure the most direct assaults upon their feelings. Pleaders in court might dramatically bare their scars; and the young children of a defendant might be exhibited with the open intent of winning sympathy. These methods have not entirely lost vogue, but they can rarely be used so openly vdth good effect. The modern man, and especially the AmericaEt and the Englishman, though emotional enough, dislikes direct appeals to his feelings. He may hang his head or he may jeer; but he is in all cases likely to resist when he is conscious that an assault upon his feelings is being made'!^ Much depends, natu- rally, upon the situation, and mifch may be forgiven to a speaker evidently sincere; but in most cases when one feels the need of awakening sympathy he had best take the less direct method ; that is, depend upon the presenta- tion of the case rather than upon pleas, either in words or. tones. Sense of responsibility. It is often very difficult to bring home to an audience the feeling that they are personally responsible for the matter in hand. The preacher who levels a sermon at the head of an erring deacon is congratulated by that very deacon, who chuokles *'to think how Brother Smith got scored this morning.'' The preacher is continually finding it neces- sary to say, ''If the coat fits you, put it on." The citi- zen who attacks a municipal abuse finds dozens to ''sym- pathize'' and say, "Yes, yes, why doesn't somebody at- tend to that ? " f or one to step forward and say, ' ' I have 206 k Lie SPEAKING come to help." Very likely the priest and the Levite who passed the injured man by, said, ^ ^ Too bad ! Some- body should care foi him, and clean out those bandits I too; but my business in Jericho won't wait.'' We can \readily see that the speaker's task is to get people to face •their obligation squarely, to give it attention when other matters of business and pleasure are taking their minds. He must make them see that the public nuisance, the grafting city administration, the violation of tenement- house laws, the endangered honor of the university, are the personal responsibility, not only of all of his hearers, but of each of them; not something th^t ^^they" should attend to, but something that unofficial John Smith should attend to. The most obvious thing to do is to declare bluntly the individual responsibility of each one present. But audi- ences are rather hardened to this ; we are all told of in- numerable imperative duties as men and citizens, as members of this body and that. At least a new and in- teresting way of bringing home the responsibility is needed, especially when one's hearers are not yet aroused over the situation. Preachers, who have to make the same appeals year after year, are driven to invent expedients. The following, clipped from a church announcement sheet, is interesting : *'How much shall I give to benevolences? — being a litde argu- ment with myself. ; "I can refuse to give anything, thus sayingj'Stop all Missionary Effort : Stop all building of frontier Churches and Bible Schools ; Stop all Ministerial Education ; Stop all aid given to aged minis- ters.' Or "I can give less than heretofore, saying ^Reduce the activities of the Church as I have reduced my gifts.' Or "I can give the same amount as formerly, saying /Stand still. Stay where you are. Make no advance. Undertake^(J3w new work.' Or "I can increase my gifts 10, 20. 30, .^)0% and thus say to the Church, ^Increase your activities by this much. Let us go up and possess the land which God has given us.' What shall be my answer?" PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 207 The following, taken from the press reports of an offhand ad- dress by President Wilson to the graduating class of the Naval Acad- emy in 1916, is an attempt to impress once more a thought that was no doubt very familiar to his hearers : i "Once in a while when youngsters here or at West Point have for- gotten themselves and have done something that they ought not to do and were about to be disciplined, perhaps severely, for it, I have been appealed to by their friends to excuse them from the pen- alty : . . . 'You know college boys. You know what they are. They are heedless youngsters, very often, and they ought not to be held up to the same standards of responsibility that older men must submit to.* ''And I have always replied, 'Yes, I know college boys ; but while these youngsters are college boys, they are something more. They are officers of the United States. They are not merely college boys. If they were, I w^ould look at derelictions of duty on their part in another spirit ; but any dereliction of duty on the part of a naval officer of the United States may involve the fortunes of a nation and cannot be overlooked.' "Do you not see the difference? You cannot indulge yourselves in weakness, gentlemen. You cannot forget your duty for a mo- ment ; because there might come a time when that weak spot in you would affect you in the midst of a great engagement, and then the whole history of the world might be changed by what you did not do, or did^ wrong. ... I congratulate you that you are going to live your lives under the most stimulating compulsion that any man can feel, the sense, not of private duty merely, but of public duty also. ... I wish you godspeed, and remind you that yours is the honor of the United States." An important way of awakening the sense of responsi- bility, which also enlists pride, is to give one's hearers something definite to do, whether that something be really important work in a position of trust, or merely signing a petition, or standing up to be counted. Get: them at least to commit themselves publicly to your cause so that the public will expect action from them. Get as many as feasible serving on committees to do spe- cific tasks and report upon them. Men of real efficiency may be interested in a cause just by the chance to do work well ; they like to make things go. Other men may be enlisted by being made to feel that they are needed, that doing their bit,'' as the English say, is of real importance, 1 For entire speech see daily papers for June 2, 1916. 208 PUBLIC SPEAKING In taking a broad view of persuasion, we may note that an aroused sense of responsibility may change a reckless radical into a conservative, or may change a conservative into a progressive. Macaulay declares that Whigs in office become Tories.* Make your r hearers realize that they are personally responsible for the conduct of the business in hand, and they may cease to shout for violent action. Mr. George hit upon his famous plan for the * 'Junior Re- public" by discovering that he could secu-re the order he had failed to command among his ''fresh air" boys, by making the ring-leader in disorder chief of police. On the other hand, the responsibility of dealing with a situation may break down a man's conservatism, be- cause it compels him to face conditions he has refused to ac- knowledge. Compelling people to face the truth. It is important to prevent people from deceiving themselves with ex- cuses. Professor James, in discussing attention and will/ puts stress upon the difficulty we often have in keeping attention upon the right action, seeing clearly that a duty is a duty and that an evil action is an evil action. ''What is hard," he says, ''is facing an idea as real. ' ' The drift of attention is all away from the right idea, and we must strain attention to it "until at last it grows, so as to maintain itself before the mind with ease. This strain of the attention is the fundamental act of will. " ^ It is sometimes the speaker 's business to com- pel his audience to face unpleasant facts as real, and in particular to prevent their putting them away by calling them by other names. ^ ' ' How many excuses does the drunkard find when each new temptation comes ! It is a new brand of liquor which the interests of intellectual culture in such mat- ters obliges him to test; moreover it is poured out and it is a sin to waste it; also others are drinking and it would be churlishness to refuse. Or it is but to enable him to sleep, or just to get through this job of work; or it is n't 1 Briefer Course p. 451. 2 Idem , p. 452. s Idem, p. 453. Cf. Talks io Teachers, p. 188. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT drinking, it is because he feels so cold ; or it is Christma day ; or it is a means of stimulating him to make a mon powerful resolution in favor of abstinence than any he has hitherto made, or it is just this once, and once does n 't count, etc., etc., ad lihitum — it is, in fact, anything you like except heing a drunkard. That is the conception that will not stay before the poor soul's attention. But if he once gets able to pick out that way of conceiving, . . . if through thick and thin he holds to it that this is being a drunkard and is nothing else, he is not likely to ^ remain one long. . . . Everywhere, then, the function ^ of the effort is the same : to keep affirming and adopting a thought which if left to itself would slip away.'' The part of the persuader in helping or compelling others to accept and stick to the right conception, la- beled with the right name, is plain enough. He should noTpermit bis hearers to call rudeness or destructiveness fuuy penuriousness caring for one^s oivn household, prodigality generosity, dissipation being a good fellow, indolence weariness or illness, snobbishness refinement, lies excuses, bigotry religion, or to suffer from the two delusions from which an Oxford don says his little world suffers, — having no opinions and calling it balanced mind, and expressing no opinions and calling it modera- tion. Dr. Wiley tells a story of a member of a certain Middle West legislature who sought an appropriation of $100,000 for the protec- tion of public health ; but could secure only $5,000. One morning he put upon the desk of each legislator before the opening of the ses- sion, a fable which ran something like this : A sick mother with a baby is told by a physician that she has tuberculosis and that she should seek a higher altitude. Lack of means prevents her going. She applies to the government and is told that not a dollar is avail- able to save the mother and her child from death. At the same time a farmer observes that one of his hogs has cholera symptoms. He sends a telegram, collect, to the government. An inspector comes next day, treats the hog with serum and cures it. Moral : Be a hog ! The $100,000 appropriation was promptly granted. The legislators PUBLIC SPEAKING w from this vmd presentation of the case that what they had vari- ously called economy, common-sense, husiness is business, etc., was ally putting the hog above the child. Faith. At times the most difficult part of persuading those already convinced of the desirability of a course of conduct, is to make them believe and feel that it is worth while to try, and that success is possible. Other voices _jmay be saying, ''What 's the use? You can't do it." Faith exhibited by the speaker himself is an important element in overcoming hopelessness; but there is room for argument for the probability of success, for citing examples of how others have succeeded, and for painting the end as so desirable that it will seem worth a supreme effort. Faith is also greatly increased by the realiza- tionjthat many are supporting the same cause. This sense of strong support may be given by securing large attendance at meetings, by many signers to petitions, by the citation of authorities, and by organization. Value of organizations. This suggests the fact that it is sometimes worth while to win the support of existing organizations, or even to form a new society to promote your cause. An organization not only increases faith ; it provides the strength of united action. It may also give ^ greater prestige ; and this prestige may win more adher- ents than the simple merit of the cause can command. People like to join organizations, just to ''belong"; and especially they like to join organizations that promise to become popular. Newspapers are more likely to report the doings of organizations than of individuals ; and pub- licity is necessary to most causes. The prestige of an organization also affects opponents of your cause, and makes them hesitate to resist. Men who are maintafti- ing nuisances, or otherwise acting in defiance of the pub- PERSUASIO^[— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 211 lie good, may laiigh at the attacks of individuals, but re- spect the power of an organized body. But quite apart from the power and prestige of or- ganizations, they do something to reduce the reluctance, strong with most Americans, to make a fuss over evils and inconveniences. It is true we have a deal of muck- raking and agitating ; but it is also true that the average American will endure discourtesies, bad service, and positive fraud and injustice, and tolerate evils of many- sorts, rather than take action. It is not merely that he is absorbed in his own affairs: he has a fear of being thought a busybody, of having it said that he is always getting excited about something. Now, this reluctance to take action against evils is much lessened when one can act in an organization ; as member, for example, of a '^Committee for the Suppression of Vice.'' Then there are scores of those who will pay annual dues, or report a case of cruelty to animals, who would not take independ- ent action; and so through an organization they make it possible for others more interested or more courageous to act. These are facts proper for a speaker to take into ac- count when he considers how to make his plea effective. But it would, of course, be absurd to form organizations in many instances; and it is always well to consider if the case is one in which the benefit to be derived will justify the attempt to add to the organizations of a com- munity, usually altogether too numerous for the busy people who are expected to support them. Manner of presenting the proposal. It is plain enough that in our effort to secure the most direct and exclusive a^ention to a proposition, the method of presentation is of high importance. We can make use, therefore, of PUBLIC SPEAKINCj. all that we have learned or can learn ol^learness and force, of all that makes for sustained attention. Variety, unity, coherence and emphasis are never more important thaii in persuasion. A few special applications of what was said in Chapter VI are needed here. Review of accepted arguments. We are considering persuasion in those cases in which our conclusions are already assented to by our hearers. Even in such cases it is often worth while to review the arguments for the proposed action, and thus change a lightly held belief, liable at any time to be routed, into a firm convic- tion. At another time we may find argument unwise; for beliefs accepted from fathers and teachers, though unreasoned, may be held with great tenacity, and the only effect of argument may be to create a questioning state of mind. If quick action is desired, the argumenta- tive state of mind is undesirable. Some successful lead- ers never argue; only summon and command. Other great leaders, like Lincoln, wish their followers to under- stand why they follow, and so to follow more intelligently. If argument is used, it should be followed by discourse of a more impulsive character. Also, care should be taken not to bore your hearers by arguments in stale form or to provoke resentment by arguing as if they were unbelievers. The air of recalling and reviewing is better than that of presenting something new. Repetition. We are likely to do almost anything if we are urged often enough, provided we are not driven into hostility by tactless urging. Napoleon is said to have declared, ^^that there is only one figure of rhetoric of serious importance, namely, repetition." Reiteration keeps the idea of an action before the mind and makes^t stick there. The repetition may occur in the same speech, or in successive speeches. Delenda est Carthago (Car- PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 213 thage must be destr* yed) thundered the old Roman Cato in every speech he made for years, until the Roman people took up the task. In these days he would have supplemented his speeches with articles in the press, and perhaps with electric signs. In political campaigns can- didates go about repeating in every speech their keynotes ; such as, ' ' Turn the rascals out ! " or, ^ ' The tariff is a tax. ' ' ^^He kept us out of the war," had not a little to do with the reelection of President Wilson in 1916. The whole corps of party speakers may repeat the phrase; and though opponents may ridicule it as a parrot cry, the repetition counts. The candidate who is clever enough to hit upon phrases which the papers will take up gains greatly by their repetition. Advertisers also know the value of multiplied repetition of standard phrases. But repetition is not limited to the reiteration of set phrases. The set phrase has the advantage that there is no failure to identify the idea, as there may be with varied phraseology; but varied statement relieves the monotony. Monotony may also be relieved by giving the stock phrases new settings. Examples from advertise- ments will readily occur to all. Not only does the varied setting relieve monotony, but also increases the prob- ability that the idea will eling- to mind, for the more associations it is given the more likely they are to return it to attention. Amplification. The idea of an action should not be repeated merely, but also developed. Says Genung : ^ ''For purposes of persuasion thoughts should be pre- sented copiously. It is a case where repetition of thoughts in many aspects and phases, and body of am- plification secured by detail and illustration, are of spe- cial service. For the hearer's mind has not merely to 1 Working Principles of RJietoric, p. 653. 214 PUBLIC SPEAKING catch the thought; he needs to be saturated with it, so that he may carry it with him as ai; impulse and work- ing consciousness/' Under Sustaining Attention in Chapter VI are given detailed suggestions in regard to amplification. We may note here the fact that the more frequently the idea of an action and the reasons for it are brought to attention, and the longer they are held before attention, the more likely they are to stick in memory and accomplish their purpose. But there must be vividness, as well as fre- quency of presentation. We should not get the notion that merely harping upon an idea is effective. Moreover, elaboration should be given only to matters which deserve it, and a speaker should be keen to detect when his audi- ence has had enough. As an example of copious treat- ment by repetition and amplification, of an idea that needed enforcement, we may take the following from Burke's Conciliation with the Colonies: ^'The question with me is, not whether you have a right to render your people miserable, but whether it is not your interest to make them happy. It is not what a lawyer tells me I may do, but what humanity, reason and justice tell me I ought to do. Is a politic act the worse for being a generous one? Is no concession proper but that which is made from 3^our want of right to keep what you grant 1 Or does it lessen the grace or dignity of relaxing in the exercise of an odious claim because you have your evidence room full of titles, and your maga- zines stuffed wit^ arms to enforce them? What signify all those titles, and all those arms? Of what avail are they, when the reason of the thing tells me that the asser- tion of my title is the loss of my suit, and that I could do nothing but wound myself by the use of my own weapons? 'SSuch is steadfastly my opinion of the absolute neces- sity of keeping up the concord of this empire by a unity PERSL ^SION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 215 of spirit, though in a diversity of operations, that if I were sure the colonists had at their leaving this country, sealed a regular compact of servitude, that they had solemnly abjured all the rights of citizens, that they had made a vow to renounce all ideas of liberty for them and their posterity to all generations ; yet I should hold my- self obliged to conform to the temper I found universally prevalent in my own day, and to govern two millions of men, impatient of servitude, on the principles of free- dom. I am not determining a point of law ; I am restor- ing tranquillity ; and the general character and situation of a people must determine what sort of government is fitted for them. That point nothing else can or ought to determine. ' ' Compare the speeches of Brutus and Antony, in Julius Ccesar, in regard to repetition and amplification, and also concreteness. Concrete and specific expression. It is of high im- portance to persuasion that abstractions should become to the audience realities. Abstractions are cold, removed from emotion, which belongs to things, experiences and persons. Our jpresest^tion must c ome into th e experi- ence of oiir Jiearersf^ mlTTu^ pansp real, tiingfble and personal to them. Says Presfdent"Lowell : ^ ' ' The mass of mankind has more sympathy with the fortunes of an individual than vrith the fate of principles. ' ' Our cause must, also, to revert to Dewey's definitions of concrete, be made familiar to our audience and be made to appear practical. Our presertation should be not only concrete, but also specific. '^Emotion," says Foster,^ *^is concerned with particulars rather than with generals. ' ' We talk of love for mankind, but our genuine feeling is for individuals. You may dr^^w money from the habitually charitable for the suffering children of a city; but you can draw 1 Puhlic Opinutn and Popular Oovernmenty p. 53. 2 Exposition and Argument, p. 146. 216 PUBLIC SPEAKING much more if you Vv^ill describe one little tot suffering in a tenement and show us the farm you wish to take him to. The one case is more tangible, easier to focus upon ; it seems more possible for one unimportant person to deal with it. To urge me to do my political duties is not nearly so effective as to urge me to go to the pri- maries next Tuesday night and work for Thomas Jones for mayor. To ask a friend to visit you is less effective than to ask him to come next Wednesday. Men do not fight for rights, but for a right. An effective battle cry names a specific goal: ^^On to Richmond!" ^^On to Paris!'' I cannot agree with Shurter, however, that "generalizations have no persuasive value." i We must often regret that the "glittering generality" has quite too much influence over shallow minds, over those of the "little education" which has been called "a dangerous thing," those who "think they think." Innumerable fads, *'new" movements, pseudo-religions and philosophies, have their vogue through the too ready acceptance of generalities, which have little effect upon the clear thinking or upon the slow-moving uneducated mind, which is slow to grasp generalizations. The best way to meet these thin preachments is to demand a reduction of the generalities to concrete, specific terms. It should be noted that the generalities belong rather to the supposed philosophical bases of these movements than to their practical teachings. These usually include tangible lines of conduct, such as relaxation and deep breathing, or walking barefoot in the dew. As a rule, the specific statement is more persuasive than the general, and this is especially true with those people best worth winning. A generaliz action is most effective when it is a striking summary of Jthbught already in mind. A short crystalli2dng statement may put the thought in a form easy to fasten attention upon. **The rich are growing richer and the poor poorer," owes its force to its being a positive statement of a common belief. 1 Rhetoric of Oratory, p. 118. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 217 A sweeping political claim, such as Mr. Roosevelt made before the National Progressive Convention in 1912, ^'The Democratic and Eepublican organizations repre- sent government of the needy many by professional politicians in the interest of the rich few^," will draw great applause from an audience in thorough accord. There is a boldness, a positiveness and an authoritative- ness about such statements, which, given right conditions, is effective; but their effectiveness is limited largely to the uncritical, either the naturally uncritical or those un- critical because already won. Whether one should come at once in a speech to the specific aspects of his proposition, has to be decided in the light of conditions. The more natural order seems to be to state first the general ideas and purposes ; but there are times when the particular suggestion will be more welcome than the general. People will listen more readily to a particular scheme of social amelioration, such as old age pensions, than to a general discussion of social wrongs, which may sound socialistic. But if one were basing his plea upon such familiar conceptions as justice and humanity, some emphasis upon these might pave the way for a somewhat radical proposal. A speech by a young woman upon Feminism illustrated an aa- vantage and a disadvantage of a purely general treatment. By de- fending feminism in general terms only, she avoided raising the objections sure to be awakened by specific statements of ways in which some women wish *'to live their own lives" ; but since her audience had but vague ideas of feminism, she won assent to a vague proposition only and really gained ne ground. She had made only a good beginning. Imagination and persuasion. Among the sayings at- tributed to Napoleon is this: Imagination rules the world. " * ' The orator, ' ' says an Eastern proverb, ' ' is one who can change ears into eyes. ' ' We are already familiar 218 PUBLIC SPEAkiiNu with the hold of imagery upon attention and its power to stir emotions. If you wish to induce a muscular student, who knows nothing of the sport, to join the foot- ball squad, take him to see a game. If you would check a friend from dissipation, show him the results in human . form. But if you cannot bring them face to face with ■ the objedtive realities, then with word pictures you must make these mental realities. The speaker who has power to make his hearers live in the scenes he portrays can ■ move them almost at will. Imagination can be appealed to in the use of illustra- tive matter. The great preacher Whitefield, whose persuasive power was so great that he made Benjamin Franklin throw all his money into a collection for a cause he did not approve, once described a vessel in peril of a storm so vividly, that when he cried out, *'What shall we doT^ a sailor in the congregation leaped to his feet shout- ing, ^ ^ For God 's sake, cut the ropes ! ' ' Emerson has emphasized the force of a tersely put image : ^ ^^The orator must be, to a certain extent, a poet. We are such imaginative creatures, that nothing so works on the human mind, barbarous or civilized as a trope [fig- ure of speech]. Condense some daily experience into a glowing symbol, and an audience is electrified. ... It is a wonderful aid to memory, which carries away the image, and never loses it. A popular assembly, like the House of Commons, or the French Chamber, or the American Congress, is commanded by these two powers, — first by a fact, tyhen b}^ skill of statement. Put the argument into a concrete shape, into an image, — some hard phrase, round and solid as a ball, which tliey can see and handle and carry home with them, — und the cause is half won.'' 1 Essay on Eloquence. PEKSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 219 As illustrations we may take. *'Remember the Alamo and Pres- ident McKinley's question in rsigard to keeping the Philippines, "Who shall haul down the flag?" Mr. Roosevelt has been particu- larly happy in making phrases which stick to memory and exert an influence ; such as "muckraker" and "nature-fakir." Would not the excellent cause called "conservation of nat'^vr^ '^sources/' have won stronger popular support had it been bsi^Ai^Kid with a less abstract name? To what would you attribute the force of the phrases i "Safety first" and "the invisible government"? Is "preparedness" ! a good term? The Welsh statesman Lloyd-George has rare power with popular audiences. In the following extract he gives a fine image to carry home, by telling this story of an old Welsh preacher : "He was conducting a funeral service over a poor fellow who had had a very bad time through life without any fault of his owu. They could hardly find a space in the churchyard for his tomb. At last they got enough to make a brickless grave amid towering monu- ments that pressed upon it, and the minister, standing above it, said : 'W^ell, Davie, you have had a narrow time right through life and you have a very narrow place in death ; but never you mind, old friend, I can see a day dawning for you when you will rise out of your narrow bed and call out to all these big people, "Elbow room for the poor." ' " Do not suppose that the power of imagery lies only in magnificent figures and elaborate word-painting, such as are found in the peroration of Webster 's Reply to Hayne, or in his reconstruction of the tragedy in his argument in the Captain Joseph White murder case. Vivid imagery may be found in the simplest speeches. The stu- dent in my class who urged the adoption of a new method of handling traffic at city crossings had to make vivid to us conditions as they are and as they would be under the proposed system, and his success was in proportion to the vividness of our imagery. Exposition and persuasion. To no means of persuasion do I find myself referring oftener in practical teaching than that of exposition ; that is, bringing into the hearer's imagination how the plan will work out. The proposed action, or method, is in many instances, vague in the hearer 's mind. It is unfamiliar, remote, unreal ; perhaps 220 PUBLIC Si EAKING iinpleasant, unprofitable, or dishonorable, because un- usual. Perhaps he cannot conceive it at all ; or he con- ceives it imperfectly and imagines all sorts of obstacles. The best ansvi^er to such objections is, Come and see. Come and see the new and efficient method of handling goods, of cleaning up a community, or of governing a city. But usually the seeing must be through clear exposition and word pictures. Vivid exposition is persuasive be- cause it fixes attention, and because it makes the course proposed seem real and feasible; perhaps familiar and well established, rather than strange and extraordinary. X ' Images of motion. Many authorities agree that ' ' an ^idea always has a motor consequence, however obscure, j Whenever a definite idea is formed, there is a tendency toward action. ' ' No one will question the further state- ment that this tendency is '*most plainly seen in those ideas which suggest some particular movement. ... A motor idea, unless restrained, tends to go out immedi- ately in definite action. " ^ By the term images of motion I wish to indicate more than is usually understood by motor images, which refers to images corre- sponding to muscular effort. I am stirred by visual images of a foot- ball game, mental pictures of the players dashing about the field, and by sound images of the sharp signals and the shouts of the crowd, and by tactual images of the impact of bodies, as well as by the "twisting, straining and writhing of every muscle, tendon and joint." Beyond a doubt, vivid images of men in action, of busy teeming life, have persuasive force. The dramatic recital of, How we won the race at Poughkeepsie, brings the recruits thronging to the crew room. The impulse to emulate and to imitate are working here, but these are not awakened to the same degree by less vivid speech. Making the hearer see himself. The most potent appeal 1 Halleek, Psychology and Psychic CulturCf p. 317. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 221 to imagination is that which makes your hearer see him- self in certain situations or doing certain actions. This touches the mainspring of enthusiasm and ambition. It is also a means of restraint, enabling one to value a future good above an immediate pleasure, or to realize a future evil; or, again, it may make one realize an anticipated pleasure so intensely that the future evil fades from view. * ' "Where there is no vision, the people cast off restraint. ' ' ^ "No, I cannot go fishing with you," says your friend ; *'I have this work to finish." "But," you persist, "just think of the woods ! Just think of pulling out those speckled beauties ! Remember that time, etc." A faraway look comes into the enthusiast's eyes, and he leaps to his feet with a "Work be hanged !" In other words, "I will not give work attention." A boy persuading his friend to quit the woodpile and come play ball, makes the friend see himself pitching to the glorious discomfiture of the rival gang. Fear of a father's wrath must take the form of a vivid woodshed experience to oust that pic- ture. The same boys, visioning their futures in day dreams, build- ing castles in Spain, are roused to enthusiasm and ambition as they see themselves building bridges over chasms, piling up fortunes in business, riding at the head of their troops, pleading irresistibly in the courts, or it may be, helping the unfortunate. A city or a nation may have its visions too. The engineer who can put into the minds of the city fathers a vision of life in an im- proved town, may win a contract for the improvements ; the leader who can make a people see itself dominant in the world, may inspire them to incredible sacrifices. So the short and simple prescription is: Make^your hewers ae^thmii^filves ig^^ doixigTtEe^ adL, you desire. Translate duties into visions. Make that athletic team see itself carried off the field, or bringing home the laurels of victory to lay at Alma Mater's feet. Make that prison audience see themselves living normal, honest, respected lives. Or, if you wish to check an action or tendency, make the student who would cheat under the honor system see himself ostracized. 1 Proverbs, 29:18, revised version. PUBLIC SPEAKING Such appeals to the imagination sometimes succeed because the speaker omits either the pleasing or the displeasing features of a situ.:tiari. One pleading for declaration of war might win his cau^e by making his hearers glimpse the glory of an heroic struggle ; but his opponent might chill their ardor by painting a picture of the horrors of war. Such practices may raise an evident moral question. We certainly feel it justifiable to fix the attention of men upon the rewards rather than upon the hardships of a worthy enterprise, in order that they may draw courage to endure ; but this sort of exag- geration has its moral limits. The s uperiority of expressi on which is specific, con crete and imaginative, over abstract a nd general presentation lies m its j30werjto^Sx^Hte^^ to m emory. But we should not over-emphasize any one method of presentation; any form of expression which does fix attention and impress memory may be persuasive. Suggestion. A new meaning :uOr an old word has crept into common speech, The new and technical meaning of the word suggestion is plainly enough derived from its older sense, as seen in the phrase, Don't suggest it to him, ' ' which carries the implication that if you do, he will act upon the suggestion. We have heard much of the evil of the exploitation of crime in the papers and in mov- ing pictures because of their suggestion to the young. No definition of suggestion satisfactory for our purpose has been found, and authorities do not agree ; ^ but it will suffice to say that ivJwn w^ external to ourselves, and without deliberation, we act upon sug- gestion. The response is automatic. A popular discussion of suggestion will be found in Scott's Influ- encing Men in Business. This book has the advantages of being written for those untrained in psychology by one well versed in the science, and also of being written from the standpoint of persuasion. In this work 2 Professor Scott says that while the subject of sugges- 1 See Titchener's Textbook, p. 449, Scott's Psychology of Adver- tising, p. 80 and McDougall, Social Psychology, p. 97, 2 P. 30. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 223 tion has been made ridiculous by writers who have presented it as the open sesame to success, still *'in moving and inspiring men, sug- gestion is to be considered in every way the equal of logical reason- ing, and as such is to be made the subject of consideration foi every man who is interested in influencing his fellow men." ' ' The working of suggestion, ' ' says Scott,^ ' ^ is depend- ent upon the impulsive, dynamic nature of ideas. . . . We conceive of ideas as being nothing more than formal, inert reasons and assume that to secure action we must add to our ideas the activity of the will. As a matter of fact, . . . ideas are the most live things in the universe. They are dynamic and lead to action. This dynamic, impulsive nature of ideas is expressed in the following law: Every idea of an action iirill result in that action^ imless hindered by an impeding idea or physical impedij nient, ' * The dynamic nature of ideas is further shown by the fact which is expressed in the following general law : Every idea, concept or conclusion which enters the mind is held as true unless hindered by some contradic- j tory idea/' The most significant feature of suggestion is that it secures assent directly, without reasons for beliefs or motives for action. These may exist, but they are not in mind. There is no deliberation and criticism, for no opposing or inhibiting ideas are thought of. Full atten- tion is given at once to the suggested idea. When I accept an idea from command, fashion, tradition, instruc- tion, convention, example, or personal influence, or what Ross sums up ^ as ''social pressure," without deliberation, I am governed by suggestion. If I consider thus: It is a tradition in my family to belong to the Republican 3 Influencing Men in Business, p. 37> Social Control, p. MS, 224 PUBLIC SPEAKING party ; I will therefore become a Republican ; or, It is the proper thing to wear a white tie with a dress coat ; I will obey the convention, — I am not acting under suggestion. But if I do these things without considering the possibil- ity of doing otherwise, then I act on suggestion. You have noticed that all this is quite in line with our theory of persuasion ; and, indeed, the quotations from Scott seem but a re- statement of that theory. But suggestion is only one phase of per- suasion. Some of the means of persuasion we have already dis- cussed might be placed under suggestion, but not the presentation of motives, or any means that involves argument and deliberation. The term suggestion is not necessary to our treatment; but it al- ready has a place in popular discussions and it furnishes a convenient terminology for discussing certain phenomena, especially the con- duct of crowds. Methods of suggestion. Eep^tition and amplification are important means of suggestion, when they do not provoke critical consideration. Such repetition is well illustrated by advertisements. It is said that the phrase, *'Just get the Delineator," repeated over and over again in advertisements in periodicals and on bill boards, some years ago, drove hundreds of men with no natural interest in its contents, to buy the magazine. Imagery is another potent means of suggestion, and figur'es of speech are especially emphasized by Scott, tndee^, any striking means of fixing attention may^ be used in suggestion. Authority and suggestion. ^ All writers upon suggestion emphasize the force of authoritj^^nd .^restiga. . Ideas presented to us by one who commands our respect, either in general or with reference to the matter in hand, are often accepted without question. Their effect, which is distinct from that of authorities presented in an argu- ment to be weighed along with other evidence, is due to the fact that no doubts arise to divide attention."^^ When a child accepts the statements of his father as absolute PERSUASION— INFLUENC truth, we have an example of authority as suggestion. A friend of mine who accepts any statement made by Mr. Roosevelt as truth, acts on suggestion; and another friend who rejects any statement by the same gentleman acts on contra-suggestion. The soldier's unquestioning obedience also illustrates suggestion. A speaker can make use of authority by way of quota- tion from those greatly respected. Some can speak as authorities themselves. A speaker's authoritativeness is increased by judicious advertising of his coming, and by a degree of formality and dignity in the conduct of the meeting. He should not scorn taking some pains to secure announcements which, while they provoke inter- est in advance, do not suggest a cheap, sensational speech ; also to secure a proper place for speaking and suitable arrangements for the conduct of his meeting.^ The impulse to imitate. The impulse to imitate, strong- est in children, whose play is attempt after attempt to repeat the actions of their elders, is also strong in adults, though checked somewhat by judgment and habit. One yawns and a whole company yawns. We often see one who watches the movements of another with absorbed in- terest, unconsciously making imitative movements. It is not often that a speaker can perform upon the platform actions which he wishes his audience to imitate ; though he may at times, as when he subscribes liberally to the cause for which he appeals. But he may be able to stir the impulse to imitate by bringing vividly into imagina- tion pictures of others doing what he wishes them to do, as fighting on the battlefield, the gridiron, or in the politi- cal arena. The speaker who is himself an embodiment of his cause, who is known to his hearers to have done 1 The authoritativeness of the speaker will be more fully dis- cussed in the next daapter. C ^PEAKING calls upon them to do, will pecuUarh'- r'^^^nrrjt if utation. Soldiers distinguished for gallant conduct are effective pleaders for enlistment in England during the European war. r-' Social suggestion. Greater than the impulse to imitate \ single acts is the tendency to yield to environment, cus- tom, convention and common opinion. Our submission to these forces is due not merely to conscious fear of what our neighbors or Mrs. Grundy may say ; but it is largely the result of ^^mass suggestion.'' Certain ideas are sug- gested to us on every hand ; they are constantly brought jtQ attention, and win by reiteration. Doubt, criticism land deliberation in regard to them rarely get a chance. ^ Everything we do reveals the pull on conduct ex- erted by social pressure. Our^ foods and drinks, our dress and furniture, our religious emotions, our invest- ments, and even our matrimonial choices confess the sway of fashion and vogue. AVhatever is common reaches us by way of example or advice or intimidation from a hundred directions. In our most private choices we are swerved from our orbit by the solar attraction — or repulsion — of the conventional. In public opinion there is something which is not praise or blame, and this residuum is mass suggestion. ' ' A^jpaan obeys this ' ' social imperative," not because he decides that it is wise to obey, ^*but because he feels that he must." Those who do not obey are the deliberate criminal and the moral insurgent. ' ' People of narrow orbit — children, farmers' wives, spinsters, peasants, fishermen, humble village folk, often soldiers and sailors — are slaves to an imposed sense of obligation. Prolonged exposure to a circle or group that speaks always with the same decision, the same commands, benumbs the will over whole areas of choice. On the other hand, whatever breaks the clench of the environ- ment or invigorates the will, — liberal education, discus- % Uosf:t, Social Control, p. 148, F ^^RSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 227 sion, travel, varied experience, contact with new types of men, leadership, new ideas and wants, changes in general opinion or intellectual progress, — these undermine the tyranny of group suggestions. . . . Old colleges, uni- versities, monasteries, senates, academies, administrative departments, army and navy, ancient families and quiet neighborhoods become the haunt of traditions that cast a spell over those who come within their reach. ' ' The speaker who can make his audience feel the social imperative pushing them in the direction he wishes them to go, has a powerful weapon. This force will most often be available to, repress radical action, or to turn men from courses deemed immoral by their communities. To use this force in suppoil of unconventional or radical proposals, it is necessary to show that other and respected communities are acting, in accord with the course pro- posed. Sometimes one can show that the larger com- munity of which the body addressed forms a part, has adopted the proposal. There is much influence, also, in the vague ^'they'' who are doing so and so, or who are no longer doing so and so. In bringing to bear the in- fluence of other environments, we see again the part of imagination. We can appreciate the force of the above by reflecting upon the change produced in our interests, opinions and morals by changing from one environment to another widely differing, as from a country village to a large city. Again, we see college students filled with tremendous zeal for all the enterprises of student life and pledging undying loyalty to Alma Mater; and we see many of these same men going out to forget her entirely in a new environment, which influ- ences them in the same way. Now, if a speaker has the power to make them live again the old life, he can make them feel again the old obligations. Immediate action. Suggestion prompts to immediate action ; and this is one of its advantages over argument. But this advantage suggests a corresponding disadvan." 228 PUBLIC SPEAKING tage. Normal suggestibility requires immediate execu- tion as one of its most indispensable conditions. " ^ It is wise, therefore, to provide some immediate outlet for the impulse. Advertisers provide a coupon to tear off and send at once, and make this as convenient as possible. ' ' Do it to-day, ' ' they urge. ' ' Obey that impulse, ' ' — right away. Stamped and directed envelopes are sent out with circulars. So speakers ask their hearers to do something at once, to make a beginning by signing a card or a peti- tion, to vote for a resolution already prepared, to stand up, to join an organization, to subscribe at once though . payment be not convenient till later. They gain immedi- ate assent in some form, if only vigorous applause for a sentiment thrown out for the purpose of giving rein to the awakened impulse, and of getting assent before there is time for doubt. Direct and indirect suggestion. In dealing with weak persons the direct command is often most effective; but a weak person who suspects that he is being treated as w^eak, may resist with great stubbornness. The direct Suggestion is in order when one is in authority over those addressed ; yet it is noticeable that men of great authority use it less than those of little. While there are times when the speaker should speak with authority, either his own or that of the power he represents ; yet direct com- mand or suggestion must be used with circumspection, lest it arouse hostility. One may say at times, ''Why not do so and so, " or, ' ' Let 's do so and so, " or, ' ' I sug- gest," or, ''So and so suggests." Indirect suggestion is most effective when our hearers arrive at the desired conclusion before it is fully ex- pressed, and the expression comes as a confirmation of a conclusion they have seemed to arrive at unaided. If an 1 Sidis. The Psychology of Suggestiofif p. 88, PERSU ASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 229 acquaintance manages to get you interested in his needs so that the thought of lending him money comes to you, . he is more likely to get help than if he asked you out- right. It is often best for the speaker to ask, ''What shall we do ? " provided he has insured the right answer- by suggestion. A book agent employs direct suggestion when he leans toward one with blank and pencil, saying, "Sign here." We have to admit the trick is effective. Even if we resist it, we feel its pull. But when we realize the trick we resent it to the undoing of the agent, so far as that sale is concerned. Contra-suggestion. We can employ also contra-sugges^ tion, of which McDougall says : ^ ''By this word it is usual to denote the mode of action of one individual on another which results in the second accepting, in the absence of adequate logical grounds, the contrary of the proposition asserted or implied by the agent. There are persons with whom this result is very liable to be produced by an attempt to exert suggestive influence, or even by the most ordinary or casual utter- . ance. One remarks to such a person. ... 'I think you ought to take a holiday, ' and, though he had himself con- '' templated this course, he replies, 'No, I don't need one/ and becomes immovably fixed in that opinion. ' ' Do we not all feel the force of contra-suggestion when we see a sign, "Hands off,'' or "Keep off the grass." While a reasonably confident and positive manner is certainly better than a weak and fawning manner, it is plain that positiveness can easily be overdone, and that indirect suggestion is often needed. Mark Antony's speech in Julius Cwsar is a famous illustration of both indirect and contra-suggestion. Another illustration of contra- suggestion is found in lago's words to Othello, after subtly leading the latter to believe Desdemona untrue, "Let her live»" Lovers 1 ISocial Psychology, p. 101. 230 PUBLIC ^.xxvAi^vjr of *'Uncle Remus" will be glad to identify contra-suggestion in the method of Brer Rabbit's escape after his capture by Brer Fox and his Tar Baby — " 'Do please, Brer Fox, don't fling me in dat brier- patch,' sezee." And consider how Tom Sawyer got his fence white- Washed. Royce ^ speaks of social opposition, or the desire to con- trast one's self with one's fellows in behavior, opinion, or power. This desire for distinction, in small ways as well as in large, balances the tendency to imitate and conform. It is, as it seems to me, too little considered by writers on suggestion. Increasing suggestibility. By suggestibility is meant our degree of susceptibility to suggestion. Not only do individuals differ greatly in this respect, since they differ in their tendency to scrutinize and deliberate, but also the same persons differ much under different circum- stances which induce different moocls. When more emo- tional we are more suggestible, for then we scan less what- ever is congruous with our feeling. Individuals and com- munities aroused by party feeling, war lust, calamities, DY the fever of speculation, are little guided by -^udg- toent, but seize upon any suggestion congruous heir mood and carry it into immediate execution. Effect of numbers. Every speaker knows is easier to move g large number than a small; ws that a few persons are more critical than a crowc it- ever causes us to feel strongly our individua ' it* importance and responsibility as persons, wbrb \: f ^t suggestion. '^Intensity of personality is in invr~ portion to the number of aggregated men."^ i proposal is put to one alone he feels he must exei judgment; but when many are present, he fei keenly his responsibility. It is said that one reas^ 1 Outlines of Pf^ycholoqy, p. 277. 2 Sidis, Psychology of Suggestion, p. 290, PERSI sT— INFLUENCING CONDUCT porations eds which individual directors woux.. never do. i the decreased sense of responsibility. The same i may be given to explain the fact that large lej^xoxauve bodies are more radical than small bodies, and also the fact that men in numbers will sup- port measures that individually they would not have the moral courage to support. The psychological crowd. This term means more than a large number of people together. That is termed heterogeneous crowd. A thousand people who have come together casually in a city park or square, are more suggestible than a few ; but if they have come together for a common purpose, as to hear a socialist orator, they are much more suggestible. And if they are feeling a com- mon emotion, as hatred \of capital or a sense of wrong, they are highly suggestible. A group *^fused" together by some strong bond is called a psychological or homo- geneous crowd. In the following pages the single word crowd will bear this meaning. We see such crowds in a bleacher full of students cheering for their team in opposition to another crowd across the field ; in a theater where all share enjoyment of the play, or in an audience swayed by a common emotion. Characteristics of men in crowds. Men think less keenly in a psy^ch^pgical c^rocaai, their minds being more or less overcome by mass suggestion. They are, there- fore, il^critic^^ discriminating, more emo tional and responsive. They will respond to sentiments more noble and more base than those which ordinarily control them. They"afe~ credulous and accept exaggeration as wisdom. "With the decrease in the sense of personal responsibility, there is a relaxing of habitual restraints, reserve and caution. A crowd of men, usually polite, will hoot at strangers, women, or authorities. Men usually reserved PUBLIC SPEAKING ill slap each other on the back, shake hands with strang- ers, parade in lock-step, laugh, shout, sing w\th abandon. Jokes are funnier, sorrows more grievowi, sentiments more uplifting. They have more courage, but also more fear. A company of soldiers will stand fire longer than one man, but once routed may fall into a panic such as one man alone would never feel. Men in crowds are in every way more primitive. They place high value on symbols, regalia and watchwords. They are extremely imaginative. ^ ^ To know the art of impressing the imagi- nation of crowds," says LeBon,^ ^^is to know the art of governing them." Besides the loosening of restraint and the increase of emotional responsiveness in a crowd, there is the multi- plication of suggestion. WherJ an idea presented by a speaker seems to be indorsed by all those about me, it i« suggested to me by all, and is forced upon my attention, driving out my opposing thoughts. Were you never in a meeting where the appeals of a fervid speaker were reflected by the intent faces of those about you? Did you not feel the power of the united pull? There is a feeling like that of slipping. If one is not to yield he ^WCist resist ; and the way to resist is to think hard of all the objections to the belief or the course urged. At times it is hard to recall these objections. Suppose you, a con- vinced pacifist, are in a crowd roused to enthusiasm by a plea for recruits for a war to you unjustifiable. You object to the plea, which is based upon nationalism and race hatred. Your objections are in no way answered by the speaker ; but unless you make an effort you may lose your hold on these objections and be swept from your moorings. You fail to keep your attention on your real beliefs ; and it is conceivable that, in an extreme in- 1 The Crowd, p. 61. PLRSUASION —INFLUENCING COi>DLCT 23 stance, you might come to yourself as a recruit. It would be the task of an opposition speaker, manifestly* very firmly and repeatedly to bring the objections pack to attention. Sometlinet /'"i^KSeem divided against ourselves, our feelings won, but our minds resisting. A story is told i of Wendell Phillips's ora- tion before the Harvard Phi Beta Kappa society, in which he made a conservative and distinguished audience applaud, more than thirty years ago, women's suffrage, Irish home rule, and Russian Nihilism. One man was heard "applauding and stamping his feet with the ut- most enthusiasm, exclaiming at the same time, 'The d — < — old liar, the d old liar !' " That was his way of keeping his attention on his real beliefs. Desirability of forming a crowd. I pass over for the present the moral question involved and consider only expediency. Plainly enough a crowd with its high degree of suggestibility is more easily swayed than a calmly deliberating body. But where deliberation is desired the crowd state is clearly undesirable. It must be remem- bered, too, that while some who are carried away by crowd feeling will remain won, many will recover their judgment and revolt. The surer way is to win by sound argument. On the other hand, even when the first business is conviction, the time comes when the delibcxa- tive mood must give way and the audience be brought into community of feeling; assuming that united action is desired. There are times, too, when there is no time for argument; when it is suggestion or nothing. And there are 8ome people with whom argument at any time is impossible. At any rate, we wish to understand crowds and their formation, if only to know how to combat the efforts of an opponent to change an audience which we wish to retain as a deliberative body, into a crowd, and how to recover control when he has succeeded. 1 Atlantio Monthly, Deceriber, 1912, p. 773. PUBLIC SPEAKING Methods of forming a psychological crowd. TLere are many .audiences which it is practically impossible to turn in|^o a crowd, as when there are two opposing fac- tions in a political convention, — unless, indeed, these can be brought to compromise. Bodies whose business is deliberation, and audiences largely m<;aS*Lip of men trained in argument, are not likely to yield except under the most emotional circumstance. We know that political conventions can be "stampeded." Andrew D. White has of late refused to attend national political conventions as a delegate, on the ground that they have lost their deliberative character, having come under the sway of the great audiences per- mitted in the galleries ; that is, of mass suggestion. There are also in such conventions many delegates not trained to deliberate; there is usually much excitement, and v/ell understood methods are used to bring about "stampedes.'' | We have already touched upon some of the means of changing an ordinary gathering into a psychological crowd, in our discussion of suggestion. The first favor- able condition is to have a large number of people to- gether. More important than actual numbers is Jiaving the hall full, even crowded. Avoid having two hundred people in a hall large enough for five hundred. If this is not possible, bring those present together in a compact body. Henry Ward Beecher said : ^ People often say, ^Do you not think it is much more inspiring to speak to a large audience than a small one ? ' No, I say ; I can speak just as well to twelve persons as to a thousand, provided those twelve are crowded around me and close together, so that they touch each other. But even a thousand people, v/ith four feet of space be- 1 Yale Lectures on Preaching, First Series, p. 73. That the be- lief that crowds are somethin/^ other thiin mere aggregations of in- dividuals and have individualities of their own, is not merely a theory of the "new" psychology, will be found by reading some not recent books by orators, such as Phillips Brooks's Lectures on Preaching, p. 188-188. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 235 tween every two of them, would be just the same as an empty room. . . . Crowd your audience together and you will set them off with not half the effort. ' ' A young lady who had been successful in arguing *' votes for women" in the streets of New York and in other places that v^oulf' try the courage of most, told me that the worst time she ever had was before a very polite body of people seated around the sides ;>f a room, leaving the center open. The reason given i for the greater ease of dealing with a compact body is that there is a limitation of the voluntary movejiaents upon \yhich our sense of individuality depends. It is also true that we are more sensible of the suggestions of our neighbors when we touch elbows. A man entering a hall to criticize procoedings and deter- mined not to yield to what he hears, v:ill instinctively keep on the outskirts of the audience. Other means are taken tr* decrease the sense of per- sonality. Uniform costuip.es are provided. Members of the audience are led to do things together, read a ritual, sing or cheer together, stand up and sit down, laugh, applaud, and vote tor/ether. Perhaps music is the great- est unifying force but the essential is to induce all to ' yield to a commo^d leadership. A story is told of a popu- lar evangelist -^.vho became so exasperated at a man who would not ohfjy the summons, ''Now let us all join in sing- ing hymn Ko. 312,'' that he hurled his hymn book at the obdurate one. The F.peaker touches upon sentiments and opinions held in common. Perhaps he has kept back some secret, i*eg2f.rding the progress of the canvass, for example, or the gi^-t of a new stadium, with which to set the crowd cheer- ^'.ng. He lets them laugh at jokes that appeal to all, and maybe turns abruptly to pathos ; and when the members of an audience have applauded, laughed, and maybe sighed a bit in common, much of the aloofness, reserve, and hostility of men as individuals is gone, and with it 1 Sidis, Psychology of Suggestion, p. 299. 236 PUBLIC SPEAKING their resisting power. Those around you seem lik fellows, though at first they may not have seemec sort. Doing things together increases friendline^ is impossible to consider a man who looks as foolish in his .regalia as you do in yours, as an entire stranger. And the speaker, w^ho agrees with your pet opinions and seems to have had the same human experiences, seems a good fellow too. This spirit of friendliness is as important as the lessening of individuality. Anything which creates a strained expectancy increases crowd feeling, as thj;t great news is momentarily ex- pected, or that the solution of an important problem will soon be announced. A pi'olonged silence, provided it be charged with strong anticipation, will increase the effect of a following announcement. There should be no ap- pearance of aimlessness in the proceedings, but an im- pressive regularity, at least until the time arrives for some startling effect. Even an intense sort of monotony is desirable. To change the regular v'^rder, or otherwise to break the monotony, is a method Ox overcoming the crowd tendency; or it may be a step to\7ard forming a crowd with different aims. When an attempt is made to stampede a political convention for a certain candidate, the regular order is broken in upon by, perhaps, a woman in white leaning from the balcony, waving a flag sliiC shouting for her candidate. Then standards are seized, a proce^^ sion is formed, headed perhaps by the same woman and a band whici.* plays over and over again the same strains, some piece popular in the; con- vention, and with the paraders singing and shouting. In the m.'dst of the seeming confusion, there is regularity to the point of monot- ony ; and the uproar is continued till success is assured, or exhaustion brings an end. Absurd as these proceedings are in the midst of con- ventions which we are solemnly told are essential to republican government, they sometimes succeed when "sprung" at the right moment ; usually when a convention is facing a deadlock and there is great tension of feeling, with hopelessness on the part of many in regard to nominating their favorite candidates. PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 237 Since witnessing what was widely rej^ortecl as a stampede at the Progressive State Convention in Syracuse in 1912, where "Suspender Jack" is supposed to have swept the delegates off their feet, I am convinced that many so-called stampedes are not such in fact. The uproar in that case was the result of a belief that Mr. Oscar Strauss was the only nominee for governor of New York who could relieve the party of an embarrassing situation and give hope of suc- cess, and was a deliberate attempt to break down the resistance of Mr. Strauss to being nominated. He, if any one, was stampeded. It was to be noticed, however, that after the convention had gone through the form of a stampede, it was never again a delibera- tive body, and was impatient of argument and near the point of breaking loose at all times until the adjournment late the same evening. A word of warning. Do not suppose, as I speak of these extreme manifestations for the sake of illustrating crowd spirit, and shall go on to speak of still more ex- treme manifestations, that a psychological crowd is always in an uproar or doing extreme things. It may be intensely quiet, showing no signs except to the observant eye. Keligious audiences, as often as any, become crowds; but they rarely become noisy, at least they rarely exceed the customs of the particular sect. More- over, audiences are but rarely completely fused into crowds. Mobs. Crowds pass into mobs. Even the heterogene- ous crowd is a potential mob. A startling event, as the cry of fire, may cause a mob. Fixation of attention ac- companied by the awakening of any intense feeling, such as anger, fear, triumph or contempt, may change a com- pany of people into a mob. The sight of a cruel act on the street may cause the formation of a mob more cruel than the object of its wrath. A group of school boys may quickly turn to a mob at the opportunity to ridicule one of its members. An audience which is not interested may become a mob under the inspiration of a witticism PI SPEAKING Ji the gallery, ai^d the speaker will be skilful w regains control. A mob is in an extremely ■ ggestible state, approachi that of hypnosis. ''ISoV'iaT ,aggestibility/' says Sid; ''is individual h vpnoti^|||-k» i ^ y^*^^^^^^ large." The indi- vidual is lost in the crowd ' hich may be said to have an individuality of its own. The individuars sense of propriety and of responsibility, his morality and his judgment are gone. The mob's will is his will. He will entertain the wildest ideas suggested to him, he will do the most absurd, the most base, the most cruel, the most noble of acts, — acts which on the morrow he views with disgust, horror, or wonder. No honest man will ever wish to form a mob; but he may wish to know how to check an audience which threatens to fall into the mob state, because it has been wrought upon by another, or because it has met in time of panic. Only a few hints can be attempted here. A crowd or a mob demands a leader. Even a herd of horses or steers will, when stampeded, select a leader. In this demand lies an opportunity for an honest man to lead for good, and of a demagogue to lead for evil. The first attempt of the one whose audience shows signs of running ' ' away with him, " is to make himself its leader. To do this it may be necessary to seem to fall in with its spirit and purpose, whatever they may be. Protest is useless. When their confidence is gained, it may be pos- sible to turn them in another direction, for a mob is very fickle. At times a trick is justifiable. A story is told of an audience determined to hoot down a speaker. A tall figure rose among them and caught their atten- tion for an instant. ''Well, fellow citizens,'' the man 1 Psychology of Suggestion, p. 327. PERSUASION— INFLTJENCING CONDUCT 239 drawled, ''I wouldn't keep still if I didn't want to." The crowd applauded the sentiment and then list^ined for more. ' ' But if I were you, I should want to ! " was the unexpected conclusion,. They laughed and then kept still. Presumably tl.is was a good-natured mob. If we take th^xti^me c':se of a mob bent on a lynching, there ha J/^^^^^^es where leaders have led in the wrong d-^^^^^BP^seemingly much disappointed themselves, l^^^HP^ the mob with their marchings and counter- ipRnngs. The first and most difficult part of gaining leadership of a mob is to get its attention. Some striking gesture or pose may be necessary. A striking expression may be interjected into some pause in the noise. It is of course useless to attempt to argue with a mob, for it is incapable of reasoning. There is no use of telling a mob that what it wishes to do is wrong, for jeers or worse will be the answer to opposition. The mob has perfect confidence in the rectitude of its own intentions : it is going to free the town of an incubus, to drive out a monster, to do justice by a soulless corporation that is grinding the faces of the poor ; it is fighting for its homes, its children and the honor of its women. Since the mob is highly primi- tive, it thinks in images only; hence a would-be leader should address it in vivid imagery. It accepts as literal truth the most extravagant exaggeration, and likes large phrases and big, vague sentiments, put in the most abso- lute, unmodified form. The leader should talk much of liberty, equality, fraternity, of honor, patriotism, and the rights of man. He should explain nothing, but affirm and repeat. The mob is much influenced by prestige, and a man who enjoys high position in its eyes has a superior chance to control it; but any one can make use of the names of its heroes. PUBLIC SPEAKING A student tells me of how 800 students in his high school, seized by a sudden fancy, refused to go to their work after luncheon and proceeded to march around and around the school building with cheers and songs. They refused to listen to the principal, who begged them to return home at least ; but when Murphy, athlete and leader, jumped upon a box they listened ; and when he shouted, *'The Orpheum opens in five minutes ; let 's go," t^^^^^SL. There is a story told, with many non-essenti^^^^H^^B|^how General Garfield checked the formation of a ^^^^^^^^H^rk during the Civil War. It was the night of Lincoln! A great crowd had gathered in City Hall Park, whi^ every moment to become a mob, likely to vent its wrath upT5 tain "copperhead" newspapers. General Garfield was asked to try to quiet the crowd. Stepping out on a balcony, he stood with up- raised hands in full sight of the crowd, which surged over to hear his news. This was the news : " 'Clouds and darkness are round about him : Righteousness and judgment are the habitations of his throne.' i "Fellow citizens ! God reigns and the government at Washington still lives!" The crowd dispersed and the danger was over. The familiar, sa- cred words, with their great image, caught the crowd, and held them long enough to enable them to receive the assurance that a greater than Lincoln was still in power, and that the government did not fall even with the beloved President. According to Le Bon ^ the mob is conservative. While it seems to be tearing down, it is fighting against change, for hereditary ideas and institutions. A student mob ^would be found in revolt against the destruction of a //^tradition. Since a mob cannot think, it cannot receive a- ^ new idea. Appeal to a mob, then, in the name of the old, the estajblishe^^ Appeal to any loyalty to institutions members of the mob may possess, — to party, college, city, country, or family. The mob is vain and will accept unlimited flattery as to its high character and purposes. Remember, too, that a mob may be turned to good deeds as well as to foul, if the better idea can be struck into its imagination. 1 Paahne, 97 ; 2. 2 The Crowd, p. 39, PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 241 The mob is cowardly and may be put to flight by a cry of '^Fire/' or Police"; but may be galvanized into hero- ism by the right leader. It admires courage. It must be faced boldly ; any sign of weakness, any attemjjt to beg it to be good, will be derided. Napoleon, v^hen but a very young brigadier, cowed v/ith a 'Sv^hiff of grape shot" the fierce mob that had ruled. Paris. Since the most striking characteristic of a mob is the loss of individuality, try to restore this feeling to the nat- ural leaders. Appeal, if it be possible, to their *sense of duty and personal dignity. Call upon them by name to step forward and commit themselves in plain words. If possible, get these men formed into a committee to determine action. But usually the mob demands immediate action. The leader may be able to suggest another and more attractive course, but one which will result in delay. This is the easier because a mob is remarkable for credulity, and does not distinguish between the possible and the impossible. If the mob is bent on revenge, suggest a more terrible revenge. By any means get delay ; for in most cases the mob feeling does not last long. Sensations of hunger, cold, and weariness become so insistent as to distract at- tention."^ To move an adjournment for dinner, or to await the coming of a popular speaker, or for some other attractive purpose, is a standard method of preventing a convention from escaping the control of its leaders. Suggestion, crowds, and ethics. When we consider the means of controlling men without convincing them intellectually, we are impressed with the serious moral responsibility involved ; but we may well remember that to influence others is a serious responsibility, whatever the methods employed. Even when men are controlled 1 Ross, Social Psychology, p. 54. PUBLIC SPEAKING by logical argument there is the same possibility that the weaker will be ruled by the stronger to their hurt; for by assuming false premises and facts, one may be as logical as Aristotle and as false as Beelzebub. We must remember, too, as already stated, that there are times when logical argument can have little to do with per- suasion; as when conviction already exists but conduct is not in accord for lack of sufficient impulse, or when men are in conditions which incapacitate them for reasoning. There are treatises that picture men as always acting in the light of pure reason and from the highest motives. If any student were so gullible as to accept such teach- ings, he would be but slightly equipped for moral conflict. He must understand human nature. Persuasion is a practical matter; and we must take men as they are; and they are, in meetings and about their affairs, influ- enced by suggestion as well as by reason. I do not mean to imply that ideals should not guide us in this practical matter; but I do mean that facts must be faced. What use a speaker may make of his power will depend upon w^hat kind of a man he is. The man who is unscrupulous off the platform will be unscrupulous on the platform. The honest speaker needs large knowledge of the springs of human action, if only that he may checkmate the dis- honest speakers who ma.y oppose him. * ^ Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves." One cannot touch this subject of crowd control without feeling the inadequacy of a brief treatment, or of any treatment. One recognizes, too, the danger that a stu- dent may become fascinated by the subject of suggestion and make too much of it ; and the further danger that a little knowledge of it may produce an unwholesome dis- respect for audiences. But this last danger is likely to be offset by practical experience ; for the young speaker who PERSUASION— INFLUENCING CONDUCT 213 deals with the average American audience, believing that he can manipulate them as he will and that they will not see through his tricks and fallacies, is in line for some highly beneficial shocks. Those who wish to follow up the subject of suggestion and crowds may do so in the works referred to in the preceding pages. It is to be said of the works of Le Bon and Sidis that they are far too cyn- ical in their view of human nature, and that their conclusions seem to be based too much upon such times of excitement as that of the French Revolution. All writers on suggestion, indeed, are likely to overemphasize its importance and to overlook other important truths. Ross's works are in popular vein, but should prove helpful. In his preface to Social Psychology he emphasizes the truth that all theories upon the subject are in an unsettled state. JNIcDougall's Social Psychology will be found as reliable as any, but he devotes little space to suggestion and crowds. Many of the most authoritative psychologists say little or nothing of these topics ; first, perhaps, because they are not dwelling on the social aspects of their science, and, secondly, because they feel the topics are not ripe for strict scientific statement. Scott's Influencing Men in Business has prob- ably the best popular comparison of suggestion and argument. This work and his books on advertising will be found useful and better than his book on public speaking, though this is well worth reading. Practical suggestions. The student of thjs, chapter should be making persuasive speecEe's,^ taking up subjects whicli permit _qf_genuine^ aftempts to. influence. conduct, and which call^less for convincing the .audience of the- Sesirability of action thaij £or jnoving to action. , He will profit, also, by studying persuasive speeches ; and for our present purpose, he should select speeches which have overcome passive rather than active opposition. Both in preparing and in studying persuasive speeches, the student should give special attention to the situation to be met, precisely what is to be overcome; and then to the means. Experience shows that this suggestion needs emphasis. A by no means unique instance w^as that of a student preparing a speech in favor of national prohibi- PUBLIC SPEAKING tion, without considering whether he would address those who believed in prohibition, those who did not believe in it, or those who believed prohibition a good thing but impracticable. CHAPTER IX PERSUASION AND BELIEF In the preceding chapter we have kept in mind es- pecially persuasion in those cases in which our hearers offer only passive opposition. In this chapter we shall give especiaF attention to cases in which there is more active opposition, due to intelligent doubt, contrary con- viction, opposing interests, or prejudice. It does not seem wise to attempt any sharp distinction between the problems considered in the preceding chapter and in this; and it should be understood that the suggestions of either chapter are, in great , part, applicable to the problems of the other. Our primary study in this chapter is JiQW to win be- lief, either as an end in itself, or as -a preliminary to action; and on investigation we find we are facing the familiar problem of securing exclusive attention. ''The most compendious possible formula, perhaps, ' ' says James,^ ''would be that our belief and attention are the same fact. For the moment, what we attend to is re- ality. ' ' Again, James says ^ belief ' ' resembles more thar anything what in the psychology of volition we know a^ consent . . . What characterizes both consent and be- lief is the cessation of theoretic agitation, through the advent of an idea which is inwardly stable, and fills the mind solidly to the exclusion of contradictory ideas. 'li To secure the desired state of attention we may have to 1 Psychology, Vol. II, p. 322. ^45 2 Idem, p. 283. ^ PUBLIC SP iG argue away doubts, change ( Oij\ ic tions, and win ixum prejudice the grace of a fair h<\ari;ig. Does not this statement of square with experi- ence? Does not making up y _ind after a struggle seem like shutting your mental eyes to all conclusions but one, or to the reasons for them, whether you do this arbitrarily or because your judgment advises that this i? the better course? Perhaps you have had a struggle over which is the best college, or the best fraternity: or whether the Germans or the Allies are in the right. Once the question is settled, you may later wonder why you were ever in doubt. One cause of this is, that after the decision is made you refuse to give other possible de- cisions a square look, and that while you eagerly admit new reasons to support your decision, you refuse to con- sider fairly reasons against it. If you have '4et the worse appear the better reason, ' ' and remain at all open- minded, the dishonored better reason may return to vex you. With the mentally honest an opinion is never in stable equilibrium unless it is founded on sound reason- ing ; but with such questions as those instanced we rarely give attention to the possibility of mistake. ^It will prove suggestive, especially for advanced students, to con- eider this doctrine further. We may notice that, in the words of Bain, "We believe everything that comes into the mind unopposed" ; or as Pillsbury says,i "Anything that enters the mind is normally accepted as true at once." I>elief is passive ; doubt is active. The child believes all it is told ; doubt comes as the result of experience. If an opinion is suggested so that it arouses no opposition, it is accepted. But if doubts do arise, or contrary opinions already exist, then these must be driven from mind in order to win for the doubted or rejected opinion exclusive attention. "I can find in a moment of belief," says Pillsbury,2 "nothing but the stable persistence of the idea or state that is believed." To the end of giving ideas "stable persistence" in the minds of others, all the /methods and means of argumentation should tend. 1 Psychology of Reasoning, p. 31. - Idem, p. 57. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 247 Pillsbury lays f^roat stress i upon the truth that beli^'f dfpondM upon experience, and ilhistrates with the following,', whirh hoMi bears upon tlie point under discussion and furnishes a ^ood point of view for the study of ar;;umentation. (Italics are mine.) "One may believe in socialism if one considers the evident ^lisjiar- ity between the rewards of individuals who may be r<'^Mnl« (l as of the same ability or as of the same de^'ree of desert. One is tirmly opposed to soc-ialism when men are regarded as essentially very dilVerent in ability, and ability and desert are id«'ntified /ust 80 long as (he two sets of crpcricnccs fluctuate before Ihr mind, one will be in doubt as to which of the abstract princij>les is nuire de- sirable. ]l7/r//. one pcrsistH, it is by that very fact believed. . . . And individuals will be predominantly individualistic or socialistic as life as a whole has presented the advanta^;es or the disndvanta^'es the present individualistic society. . . . \Ve have a belief in one theory or tlie other just so lonj; as one set of experiences predom- inate in consciousness; doubt enters when there is rivalry between two sets of exi)erience." 2 ''One can change the belief of any individual either by f^h'inf: him new and different experiences, or by so presenting: a staternent that it shall arouse a different set of experiences to pass ui>on the statement.^ lioth methods are applied in i)ractical arj^uuK-ntat ion. Ihe effectiveness of a plea dei)ends upon the success with whicli ne\v ^rroups of experiences can be aroused to ;:ive the attitude desired. When the attitude is properly aroused belief follows as a matter of course.'* Persuasion and belief. We decided in tlie last.cliaptcr to apply tlic term pei^suasion to the process of inducing others to give fair, favorable, or exclusive attention to propositions. We have just seen that belief is also a mat- ter of attention. I n seeking to giye__l!istable persistence ' ' to ideas in minds that have not before held them, or have heldjQiip_Q§jn^deas, we try to changcthe attitude, of those ininds to the end that there may be willingness to listen at allj that there may be an open-minded reception of our arguments, and a willingness, or even a desire, to be- lieve; and we also employ logical arguments which fur- nish grounds for accepting the belief we urge, and which serve to drive opposing arguments from the hearers' minds, so weakening and discrediting them that if they return they will be received with scant respect. No hard and fast distinction should be understood here, only iPaychology of U^aioning, p. 38. 3 /(fern, p. 53. 248 PUBLIC SPEAKING an empliasizin^i^ of the fact that there may be two phases of one process. Tliat the distinction is not strict is evi- dent from tlie fact that sound argument is in itself an important means of winninf^: attention. It is possil)]e, as we noted in the preceding chapter, to cover the wliolc process of producing conviction with the term persuasion; but it is botli correct and convenient to limit its mean- ing, as applied to this process, to the winning of atten- tion and acceptance for the arguments which reason pre- sents. The importance of logical argument. I shall not in this text attempt a systematic treatment of 'argument in the stricter sense ; but shall leave that to the many excellent works on logic and argumentation. Such topics as the rules of evidencOt fallacies, the analysis and briefing of arguments, w^ill receive only incidental attention, while I shall give space chiefly to the adaptation of arguments to audiences, a matter w^hicli is of the very essence of persuasion. Yet while I prefer not to give here a necessarily brief and inferior treatment of logical argument, but to em- phasize the means of gaining a hearing for one's logic and facts, I do not wish even to suggest that sound logic may be ignored, or that tlie phases of the subject here dis- cussed are in any way inconsistent wath logic. Kathcr I ^w^ould impress upon all students of public speech the im-_ poilancc of sound logical argument,J)ased upon fcicts_aiid_ the most rigorous analysisT'TChis there should be al- though the circumstances of a speech do not admit of detailed statement of its logical basis. In the first place, ^ a_sj).eaker owes a high duty to himself and to his audience to determine and to speak the truth as best he can. He can never tell how far his most casual word may reach. y In the second place, expediency coincides w^ith duty. In PERSUASION AND BELIEF 2^9 most assemblies the stron^^^cr minds control; in all connrni- iiities, in the lon<^ run, they formulate opinions and de- termine action. And these stronjj^er thinkers resent an attempt to control them aj^ainst their judj^nnent. Tliey will not often cease questioning^ and balancing arguments, and yield their undivided attention, until the demands of reason have been satisfied. If a triumph is gained in defiance of reason, reason will reassert itself. Wc sliall see that emotion has much to do with determining what are good reasons; but sound reasoning cannot be safely ignored. » I spoke of WcndoH rinllips's tritiiiipli in making a conservative, cultured audience applaud Nihilism. J lis trinnipli, however, was more amusing than lasting. A few hour.s later his honrer.s were indignant at what they considered a trick. On the evening of the same day, "Charles lOliot made a forcible and ehxpient five-minuto speech at the dinner, vigorously rejecting l*hillii)s's doctrine and exposing the essential fallacy of his discourse." There is likely to be some one at hand to expose the man who attempts to befog reason ; if not anotlier speaker on the same occasion, or on a later occasion, it may be a newspaper writer, or some hard-headed man on the street or in the club, who will expose the Ijad argument next day. Opponents will seize upon every weak link in one*s logic, or whatever can be made to seem weak. Doubters will persistently demand '* Why?'' and **\Vhat is the evidence?" J^~WiV}^'J]li ^1^ siircljj cj[cctu'c, shqiild he at once persuasive and soiouL * I urge upon every student of public speaking, as an important foundation for our work, the thorough study of the analysis of propositions, the briefing of arguments, the methods of detecting and exposing fallacies, aiid the laws of evidence. Such studies will be of great assistance in all branches of composition ; and. indeed, in most branches of learning. I am not now speaking of college de- bating, though this intellectual sport, properly conducted, can be made a valuable training for the combats of courts and conventiGus. 250 PUBLIC SPEAKING Emotion in argument. Having said so much on the importance of soundclogic, I now call your attention to the part of emotion in argument. I do not mean in befogged, ^ illogical argument, (hut in clear, logical argument. Let us notice, first, thatf in dealing with those practical issues that directly afrec| human conduct, the very basis of \ argument is emotion; or as .we noted in the preceding 1 / chapter, the major)premise of such an argument is the expression of an e.jotion. If we argue that the square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides, we have purel^eason- ing, free from emotion ; but when we take up the propo- sition that Congress should pass the immigration bill, involving an illiteracy test, over the President's veto, we are constantly dealing with emotions. We must assume • first the emotion of patriotism, or that all desire the good of the country. As we proceed we find ourselves meet- ing with emotions involved in the interests of labor and of corporations, w^ith self-interest and the love of justice, with race prejudices and loyalties, with the sentiment that America should remain the home of the oppressed, with pity for those who have had no opportunity for edu- cation, and with a reluctance on the part of many to pass a measure over President AVilson's veto. If we j looked beneath the surface of newspaper discussion, we , might find certain religious feelings playing an active part in the settlement of this issue. The fact that some of these feelings ouglit not to influence our judgment of the question, and the fact that none of tliem should be permitted to put us in such a state that we cannot rea- son justly, do not change the facts tliat an argument on the issue impinges upon emotion at every point, tliat some of these emotions are necessary to a proper solution, that they are, in fact, excellent reasons, and that any one or PERSUASION AND BELIEF 251 several of them, good and bad, may be dominating the I minds of your hearers as you address them. The ques- tion selected is far from an extreme instance, as you will see if you think for a moment of such questions as inter- collegiate athletics, modern dancing, woman's suffrage, and blame for the European war. In the second place, we notice with regard to the influence of emotion on argument, the strong tendency \^of men to believe ivhat they wish to believe.^ ''Will land belief are undoubtedly common products of the same deeper lying forces. "Whatever appeals to us strongly I enough to tempt us to desire to believe, by the very same appeal compels belief." Experience declares, ''A man ! convinced against his will is of the same opinion still. ' ' ^ t Almost as famous is the saying attributed to a Scotchman, j ' I am quite open to conviction, Sandy, but I should like I 0 see the man w^ho can convince me. ' ' This tendency to believe what we wish to believe is encouraged by the fact that, with reference to questions at all debatable, there are reasons, usually good reasons, in support of either al- ternative. One arrives at a decision by weighing the opposing arguments. Now, if he wishes to arrive at a certain conclusion, the arguments for it seem weighty and those in opposition very light. He is likely to refuse ! credence to witnesses and authorities against the de- \ sired conclusion. He may even refuse to listen to oppos- ing arguments ; or he may listen in an attempt to be fair, but with a subconscious determination to discredit what he hears, saying all the while, That is not true ; That is I not important ; or, That is insufficient. In other words, he refuses fair attention. 1 Pillsbnry, Psychology of Reasoning, p. 54. 2Cf. Cfesar, Gallic War, Book III, Cb. 18: Fere lihenter homines, quod volunt, credunt. 252 'Lie SPEAKING No doubt you ait a '-. .a. ly reasonable person; sfcJ if yon were to learn that your c - -^a^sed uncle had cut you off from nn expected legacy, you might find it easy to believe the old man • ipos mentis when he executed his will. Learning later that I , added a codicil in your favor, you might find no difficulty in beiieving that at the approach of death his mind cleared. We expect to-day to find men of German parentage pro-German in their opinions about the war, and men of English parentage pro-English. We say, *'Their sympathies are naturally that w^ay.** We may give many logical reasons for our positions, but how many are there among us who take pride in our trained minds, who determined our attitude toward this war by impartial reasoning? I do not wish to be understood as asserting that a man will or can believe whatever he wishes to believe. Evidence may be too strongly against desire. We say at times we are afraid to believe this or that, or that a certain belief is too good to be true. However, when a man does not follow his desire to believe, the reason will usually be that another emotion intervenes ; his thinking is guided by a strong love of truth, or he is held back by a fear of the consequences of a mistake. So he resists the tempting belief by holding atten- tion upon the reasons against it.i In practical speaking instances of the effect of desire upon judgment are common enough. We find only too many instances of juries led by their sympathies to ignore the plain purport of the evidence. It is my belief that in these cases the jurors rarely consciously violate their oaths, but that their desires control them in selecting and rejecting evidence. I sat as a spectator, with a slight bias toward the prosecution, through the trial of a young woman for the killing of her husband. The case for the defense was the bad character of the victim (worked into the evidence in spite of the rules), and "emotional insanity," testified to by several sisters, a weeping mother and a pathetic old father, who, one all the time hoped, would make out a good case, in spite of the fact that they were palpably straining the truth. The summing up of the astute attorney for the defense pre- sented briefly an argument which, had it been based upon established facts, would have justified an acquittal, and a long address to the sympathies of the jury, closing with, *'Give her back to her mother.'* The jury, apparently an intelligent body of men, rendered a verdict 1 Cf. Camille Bos, Psyvhologie de la Croyance, p. 81. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 253 of not guilty, in spite of damning testimony which they must have refused to remember. And I felt that no jury, though it were drawn from the district attorney's office itself, would have rendered a ver- dict of murder in the first degree, so strongly would they have wished to believe in the *'brain storm." If there is any place where all save pure logical argument would seem to be out of place, it is before the Supreme Court of the United States ; yet even there argument contains more than law, facts and logic, and lawj^ers take into consideration the tendencies, the feel- ings, even the prejudices, of the justices. When Webster argued the Dartmouth College Case, at a time when the Court contained such men as Marshall and Story, he was swept at the end into an undoubtedly sincere outburst of feeling for his college : "Sir, you may destroy this little institution ; it is weak ; it is in your hands! I know it is one of the lesser lights in the literary horizon of our country. You may put it out. But, if you do so, you must carry through your work ! You must extinguish, one after another, all those greater lights of science, which for more than a century, have thrown their radiance over our land! *'It is, sir, as I have said, a small college, and yet there are those who love it. "Sir, I know not how others may feel [glancing at the opposing attorneys,] but for myself, when I see my Alma Mater surrounded, like Caesar in the Senate house, by those who are reiterating stab after stab, I would not, for this right hand, have her turn to me and say, Et tu quoque^ mi fili! And thou too, my sonT^ An eyewitness wrote : "The court-room during those two or three minutes presented an extraordinary spectacle. Chief Justice Marshall with his tall gaunt figure, bent over to catch even the slightest whisper, the deep furrows of his cheeks expanded with emotion, and his eyes suffused with tears ; Mr. Justice Washington at his side, . . . leaning far forward with an eager troubled look ; and the remainder of the court at the two extremities, pressing, as it were, toward a single point, while the audience below were wrapping themselves around in closer folds beneath the bench to catch each look and every feature of the speaker's face." The court did not pronounce its decision until after the summer recess ; but it is believed that the strong desire to protect the college, created in its members, led the court to render a decision which was bad law, and which has been used to serve the ends of corporate injustice ever since. It is a legal proverb that "Hard cases make bad laws," which is only a way of saying that the sympathies of courts lead them to unsound decisions. I have not cited these instances to justify them; but because I v ish to represent human nature as it is, and be- cause I wish to impress the truth that while attempts 254 PUBLIC SPEAKING at befogging judgment by means of emotion are nc fiable, we cannot ignore our hearers' emotional at. and that if it be against us we can make little way with the soundest logic. But frequently I am by my students, ^^Men ought not to be influenced in their thinking by their emotions and prejudices/' No one is stricter with other people's thinking than your sophomore. He himself is open-minded in regard to those subjects in which he has a purely intellectual interest; but hear him argue on ^'activities," woman's suffrage, or religion! At any rate, the question is not how men should think, but how they do think. These are the words of a practical idealist, Woodrow Wilson : ^ ''As I look back upon the past of the South, it seems to me to contain that best of dynamic forces, the force of emotion. We talk a great deal about being governed by mind, by intellect, by intelligence, in this boastful day of ours; but as a matter of fact, I don't believe that one man out of a thousand is governed by his mind. "Men, no matter what their training, are governed by their passions, and the most we can hope to accomplish is to keep the handsome passions in the majority." After all, are we not much too scornful of emotions? It is true that men are often governed by unjustified emotions ; but it is also true that they are often led astray by false logic. There are more men who feel truly than there are who reason justly. Even Huxley, who held up the ideal of a mind which is a "cold logic engine," wished men to have strong emotions, though well con- trolled. So eminent a scientist as Baldwin has written : ^ "Neither will logic satisfy /.ir ii.oral or aesthetic de- mands, for the logically true is often immoral and hid- 1 From a speech to the New York Sou-hern Society in 1910- found in Wood's After-Dinner Speeri'.rft. p. 46. 2 Elements of Psychology, p. 262. PERSUASION AND BELIEF eous. It is well, therefore, to write large the truth that logiCiil consistency is not the whole of reality, and that the reyolt of the heart against fact is often as legitimate a measure of the true in this shifting universe as is the cold denial given by rational conviction to the vagaries of cajjual feeling. ' ' In the third place, we may notice that emotions not 'QTO^erljl helonging to the argument itself, affect de- cisions. These may arise from the occasion. The audi- ence may be enthusiastic or bored, good natured or angry. Again, emotions may arise from the relation of speaker and^udience. They may feel great respect for him, or be pleased by his manner, his friendliness and good humor ; or they may dislike him and feel resentment or suspicion, and these feelings affect the influence of his argument. Not over-scrupulous lawyers for the defense in criminal cases in- sinuate that the prosecution has been unfair, and that the prosecut- ing attorney is trying to win reputation by ^'railroading" innocent and friendless young men to prison. And, although the trick is old, the prosecuting attorney, knowing that he cannot safely ignore the prejudice created in the minds of the jury, labors to convince them of his fairness and to destroy the sympathy created for the defendant. When the defendant's attorney in the famous Captain Joseph White murder case sought to prejudice the jury by insinuating that Webster had been engaged by the State to hurry them against the law and beyond the evidence, Webster made it his first business in summing up to remove the prejudice created. He commented first on his lack of experience as a prosecutor, and proceeded : "I hope I have too much regard for justice and too much respect for my own character, to attempt either ; and were to make such an attempt, I am sure that in this court nothing can be carried against the law, and that gentlemen, intelligent and just as you are, are not, by any power, to be hurried beyond the evidence. . . . Against the prisoner at the bar, as an individual, I cannot have the slightest prejudice. I would not do him the slightest injury or injustice. But I do not affect to be indifferent to the discovery and the punishment of this deep guilt." Webster then proceeded to that terrible picture of the cowardly stabbing of a gentle old man in his sleep, removing any disposition in the jury to let pity obscure duty ; and continued with an intro- 256 PUBLIC SPEAKING duction that fills thirteen pages, preparing the jury emot or a fair consideration of his argument, before he took up th e. One studying this speech will find many places in which ' ?d consciousness of the danger from sympathy and prejudi( n- stance, in the careful way in which he intimated to th( • le probability that the defendants old father was untrustwoi is testimony, and again in his solemn exhortatiQn to the j\ le close. This speech will repay study. It will be found i] Ewan's Essentials of Argumentation, with an outline, j l.i the case, and also many helpful comments, scatterec^ throu.:^ij ; text. Study the whole speech, not merely introduction auJ ^-.j elusion. Prejudices such as Webster faced, and those which may arise wEen "one discusses a race question, sectional or sectarian questions, women's suffrage, or fraternities, are fairly tangible; but others are more elusive. President Lowell ^ mentions not only religious intolerance and racial antipathy, but also, ^'the horror of the man of an un- familiar form of worship, the instinctive dislike of the man who speaks a different tongue or pronounces his words in a strange way, ' ' as feelings which must be taken into account in dealing with a popular opinion. The mere fact that a man comes from a different environment, from city or country, that he is wealthy, that he uses ^*big" words, that he is a college professor, may affect his influ- ence either favorably or unfavorably. The fact that prejudice is politely concealed makes it no less real. Some of the ladies in an audience may think a young speaker, '*such a dear boy," but feel that his opinions are therefore inconsequential: others may be sure he thinks himself mighty smart." Do not doubt that the fate of many a speech is determined before it is be- gun. To summarize: In practical argument we cannot ij:- t Public Opinion and Popular Government, p. 36, PERSUASION AND BELIEF 257 / uore the part of emotion in determining belief. We must consider what manner of men we are addressing, what feelings move them, how opposition can be abated and a mood of friendliness and candor established. And, further, what we wish men to believe it is wise first to make them willing, or make them wish, to be- lieve. V The approach. It is evident that in our efforts to win past opposition to open-minded attention, much will de- pend upon first impressions. It was Cicero who said that the purpose of an introduction is reddere auditores benev- olos, attentos, dociles, which has been well translated, ^'io render the hearers well-disposed toward the speaker, at- / tentive toward his speech, and open to conviction." Genung lays much stress ^ on the ' ' speaker 's alliance with hisjandience, " a phrase worth remembering. This rela- tionship is much affected by the characteristics of the speaker, his tact, fairness, courage, sincerity, etc., — mat- ters which will be treated further on. We proceed here to other matters important to winning a fair hearing for a proposition. Avoid a belligerent attitude. If a speaker hopes to gain the sympathy of his audience, he should not start a fight with them by assuming that he and they are necessarily in disagreement. A humorous writer makes a character say, ' ' Mother, you made your first grand mis- take in running Votes-for-Women as a controversy. It never was. It is not now. I don 't know a man in my set who understands yet what the arguments against women 's suffrage are. But you people labeled it a battle and we are just filling in the mob cues. There is a point in this exaggeration. Not long ago I heard presented so bel- ligerently one of my strongest convictions, — ^that first 1 Practical Rhetoric^ p. 449. 253 PUB LEAKING in the orator is the ma contradict, to accept t lat I felt st iongly moved to : of oppos.. ' e speaker seemed to assign to all . - :ers. Belligerency is part :aiaily unpersuasive, as well as usually unjust, when il L^o the form of bitter and un- restrained denunciation. Here is a speech on War, which starts with the most uncom- promising denunciation. War has absolutely no justification. The general tone of the speech indicates that he who differs is a fool or a monster. The speech is as unreasoning as war itself. No at- tempt is made to lead step by step the man who has no clearly formed opinion. The unfairness and exaggeration of this speech fairly force one into opposition. Here is another speech urging municipal ownership of street railways. The would-be orator leaps at once into the fiercest denunciation of capital and corporations; and with slight argument urges us to rise in our wrathful manhood and resist the tyranny of five-cent fares. Least tactful of all are opprobrious epithets applied to the persons and institutions one is opposing; as when Garrison called the Constitution covenant with death and an agreement with Hell." A suffrage agitator re- cently referred to ''our mossgrown Constitution"; but when an auditor rose to protest, she promptly retracted the term and declared she meant no disrespect ! Abusive terms, especially when applied to persons, turn sympathy from the speaker. Even that savagely extravagant de- nouncer, Wendell Phillips, once checked Charles Remond, who had declared that ''George Washington was a vil- lain. " " Charles, ' ' said Phillips, ' ' the epithet is not felic- itous." Benjamin Lundy, another uncompromising foe of slavery, held that "the language of cutting retort and severe rebuke, is seldom convincing, and it is wholly out of place in persuasive speech." There is a time for denunciation, but that time is not when you are asking your audience to consider fairly a proposal not yet accepted. When one is addressing PERSUASION AND BELIEF 259 those in agreement, for the piirpose of arousing them, de- nunciation may win a quick success, though unlimited denunciation is rarely just. But its effect upon those in opposition is manifestly unfortunate, and it is likely to cause neutrals to sympathize with those denounced. A campaign of abuse is rarely successful in politics. Argument is the most usual, and certainly the most tangible, method of changing belief. When objections are certainly in your hearers' mind, the best way usually is to recognize them and answer them directly and boldly, though not belligerently. Nevertheless, conceal it as much as one can, there is still in argr ment an attempt to overcome that provokes resistance. In candid minds this is largely offset by their loyalt}^ to truth. But it is quickened by the attitude we cAl ^^argumentative," es- pecially if there is a touch triumph in it. We dislike one who relentlessly proves us wrong and himself alto- gether right. Miss Ida Tarbell somewhere uses a sug- gestive phrase in speaking of the Canadian leader, Mac- donald: ''He is a convincing speaker whom one does not resent.'' This tendency to resist argument is of course stronger in minds not candid, either in general or with reference to a particular argument. With such it is often justifi- able to avoid the direct onslaught and make a flank attack. Sometimes we may avoid reference to controverted points and dwell upon propositions less likely to stir opposition, but which involve the desired conclusion. One might make headway with women more strongly than thought- fully opposed to women's suffrage, by avoiding all refer- ence to the ballot and discussing laws which, in certain states, discriminate against women. Assuming that a good case can be made out and resentment awakened, one might find the anti-suffragists themselves demanding the 260 PUBI /MAKING ballot as a means of f r eform. We may sometimes merely suggest the de v inclusion, hoping that it .will stick in memory aji^^^'r ^^^Tme^get candid consideration. Sometimes we may assent rather than argue for it. This method c< . pon inertia; a man who would not positive! -se t, may fail actively to reject. Better tha ometimes is just to describe the conditions to proposal relates. The influence of Uncle Tom surpassed that of many arguments, put as argume.iis. Pages' Red Rock served to open the eyes of Norther - rr r -ers to the Southern attitude toward the freedman. . ^ nost effective peace speech I ever heard was in f V a description of the fighting in Belgium. If those who since . : ^ of the Great War have been trying to argue American .>7>i3:i><»D .uict- a more favorable state toward Germany, could put forwai • ':i'Ufipi:in who, without a touch of the rancorous argumentative!. ■ vk-^h characterizes such papers as The Fatherland, could make u. ^alize Germany and the Germans, not the men of "blood and iron," but the simple, homely, likable Germans, could make us realize that they are just *'folks,'' not merely efficient destructive machines, they could win a hearing for ^ their genuine arguments. Common ground. Not only should we avoid awaken- ing hostility; we should seek an alliance with our audi- ..ence by getting on common ground with them. In Chapter VI we considered the advantage of finding a com- mon girou,n^d^'9f inte7Tsi-f and leading on from this, in ac- cordance with the principle of derived interest. This is persuasive, as are nearly all the means of winning at- tention. We like a person who shares our interests. When two persons are interested in the same sport, study or busi- ness, each is likely to assume that the other is a proper sort of person, wise in his general outlook, Consider how Pn^RSUASION AND BELIEF 261 casual acquaintanL."'s, perhaps on a railway journey, are drawn together by G.iscovering that they have the same enthusiasms, have gone through the same experiences, even the same ailments, come from the same town, sprung from the same race, have gone to the same college, or that both are Republicans or Presbyterians. Bonds as strong and as slight as these! draw men together into societies holding conventions and dinners. Business men think it worth while to spend a little time in getting on easy terms with a stranger with whom they hope to do busi- ^ ness, by talking of common interests. So the skilful: speaker may break the ice by referring to common inter- ests, if possible those which will form a natural introduc- tion to his theme. There is also a common ground of feeling to be con- sidered. While in most cases th'e"*^sR^aigKtest way into a subject is the best w^ay, at times it is advisable to spend a few minutes in bringing the audience into a desired mood. Finding common interests helps in this. The awakening of old memories may serve, or emphasis upon^ common likes and dislikes and associations. Stories are much used, humorous and dramatic. Hostility cannot survive the sharing of a common emotion, and especially is it blown away by a gale of laughter. In using any device it is well to consider: (1) Is it needed? (2) Am I giving too much time to it? (3) Can I make my story, or whatever is used, serve also the purpose of opening my subject; or can I make the proper materials of my speech, as the statement of conditions to be treated, serve to induce the right mood? To create sympathy is the sovereign remedy for genuine hostility. Suppose a defender of Austria-Hungary is striving to convince a hostile audience that that nation was right in its ultimatum to Servia. He knows his ;^udience will not listen patiently at first to his argu- 262 PUBLIC SPEAKI raents based on the assassination of the lince and Servian plotting in general. He therefore remir ' some detail of how the blowing up of the Maine incensed ..st Spain. He asks us to consider the effect of having a on our border trying constantly to stir up one section of .ed States against an- other, or inciting the members of o j revolt. In every way he tries to get us *'to put ourselv^ other fellow's place." ; There is also a common groijina'df^ViefT To find this 'is one of the best establislied means of persuasion. In the first place, better feeling results from the discovery by the audience that they have more in common with the speaker than was supposed, and that he is not so radical or so conservative as they had thought. This discovery pre- pares the way for the belief that his present proposal is not impossible. There is also an enjoyment in har- mony of views, and it is a wrench to stop agreeing with a man with whom one has gone some way in harmony. Give an audience something it will indorse as commoji sense, and once the heads are nodding in assent, they are likely to go on nodding. The assenting mood continues, as by easy stages the speaker leads from the common ground to the desired position. Of Wendell Phillips's Phi Beta Kappa oration, Barrett Wendell says : i "A good many went to hear him with much curiosity as to what he might say, and apprehension that they might have to disapprove it by silence at moments which to less balanced minds might seem to call for applause. In the earlier parts of his oration they found themselves agreeably surprised : he said nothing to which they were unprepared to assent, and what he said he said beautifully. They listened with relief and satisfaction. When the moment for applause came, they cordially applauded. So the oration went on with increasing interest on the part of the audience. Finally when some fresh moment for applause came, they auded as a matter of course." / While the common ground may be use*. somewhat sly way, do not suppose it is, of itself, . late. If to avoid prejudice and to bring about har f feeliii,^ 1 English Compositioriy p. 243, PERSUASION AND BELIEF 263 so that fair-mindedness shall prevail, is right, then this method is right. Usually people actually differ much less than they suppose. Unless they proceed to find out what they agree upon, they may continue to differ quite unnecessarily and develop a small divergence of views into a bitter combat. Some one has said that there never was a war that could not have been settled by two honest men come together for frank discussion. When Pat went to Mike and said, "Let 's talk over our differen- ces," the wiser Mike replied, "No, let 's talk over our agreements." Mike's method was likely to lead to a settlement ; Pat's to a fight. A speaker addressing a meeting of his own political party, seeking to win them to his views on a party prob- lem, has no difficulty in finding common ground in the general beliefs and policies of the party. When he ad- dresses those of other party affiliations, he still should have no difficulty ; for, after all, fair-minded men of all parties agree in most respects. All wish, at least in a general way, prosperity, justice for all men and defense of the national honor. Political parties differ more as to method than as to principles. All wish to control the trusts, for example, but how? Very absurd in speeches designed to win votes from other parties, are assertions that an opposing party wishes to ruin the country, like the reiterated assertion that the Cleveland Democracy wished to sacrifice the country to the interests of England. Mr. Job Hedges, Republican candidate for Governor of New York in 1912, made a much more successful campaign than seemed possible under the circumstances. His aim was to win back the Progressives to the Republican fold. He refrained from denuncia- tion of the new party, such as was common in that year, and with the utmost good humor dwelt much upon what Republicans and Progressives have in common. In no field is controversy likely to be more bitter than in the religious, yet nowhere is there better opportunity for getting on ^64 PUBLIC SPEAKING common ground. A Methodist addressing M , though his audience contains representatives of all the < : sects under that general name, has a wide field of comm( sts, aims and docrtrines to select from. No matter how fa i be from his brethren on the point at issue, he knows tha ,'ree on a gen- eral sj'stem of doctrine and church polity, a ' he can appeal confidently to John Wesley as an accepted ^ ty. If he ad- dresses an audience composed of representatives of all Protestant churches, he still knows his ground, by what common aims, beliefs and history they are bound together, and that most will respect the name of Luther. If he seeks to win both Catholic and Protestant, he still has the advantage of a large common ground and he can depend upon a common allegiance to one Founder. And likewise Jew and Gentile have a common foundation in the Old Testament. Finding common ground is helpful, not only in securing harmony between speaker and audience, but also, as the preceding example suggests, in securing harmony among the factions of the audience itself. There are times when the common ground is too evident to need development ; yet even when evident there may be wisdom in dwelling upon it, as when Webster in his Reply to Hayne, knowing that sectional feeling in his audience and in the country was running high, paused to say, *^Let me recur to pleas- ing recollections; let me indulge in refreshing remem- brances of the past," and went on to remind his audience of the Revolutionary days when Massachusetts and South Carolina fought shoulder to shoulder. In any case it is wise for the speaker to think out the boundaries of the common ground in order that he may make no false as- sumptions. The usefulness of the common ground is not limited, though it is most conspicuous, to cases where antagonism exists. Beecher has put the case well.^ He tells how as a boy he never hit anything with his gun until his father showed him how to take careful aim. When he became a 1 Yale Lectures on Preaching, p. 11. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 265 preacher he failed for two years to get results with his sermons. Then he reviewed all the sermons of the apostles : ''And I studied the sermons until I got this idea: That the apostles were accustomed first to feel for a ground on which the people and they stood together; a common ground where they could meet. Then they heaped up a large number of the particulars of knowl- edge that belonged to everybody ; and when they got that knowledge, which everybody would admit, placed in a proper form before their minds, then they brought it to bear upon them with all their excited heart and feeling. That was the first definite idea of taking aim that I had in my mind. " 'Now,' said I, 'I will make a sermon so.' . . . First I sketched out the things we all know. . . . And in that way I went on with my ' You all knows, " until I had about forty of them. When I got through with that, I turned round and brought it to bear upon them with all my might ; and there were seventeen men awakened under that sermon. I never felt so triumphant in my life. I cried all the way home. I said to myself: 'Now I know how to preach. ' ' ' Explanations. In order to delimit the common ground and determine how much is agreed upon and also what are the real points at issue, it is often necessary to clear the ground by certain explanations. The audience may be opposed simply because they do not understand. Again, the speaker's proposal may have been purposely misrepresented; as when it was asserted by opponents of Mr. Roosevelt in 1912 that his plan for the "review of judicial decisions'' involved the determin- ing of litigation between individuals by the public. Racial or religious prejudice may have been awakened. A political boss attacked for corruption may have ap- pealed to some hoary sectional animosity, or proclaimed 266 PUBLIC SPEAKING that popular government and the Con q peril. To clear the ground there is no bette in many- cases, than to state the origin and history oj the question^ thus showing why it has come before us and just what its implications are. The proposition that the United States has no right to let American ships pass through its own Panama Canal free of charge, may seem to be very absurd; but if a speaker who wishes to argue the affirmative, of that proposition, puts before his hearers the history of the question, the series of treaties by which we acquired the right to build the canal at all, the ab- surdity will disappear, and the audience will probably meet the speaker on the common ground of our obliga- tion to abide by our treaties. Then the issue becomes one of the construction of treaties, which can be calmly discussed. Lincoln had unusual ability in arriving at a clear understanding with his audience, and this seems to have sprung from his habit of mind and method of preparation. An intimate friend of Lincoln says that his mind "ran back be- hind facts, principles, and all things, to their origin, and first cause. . . . Before he could form an idea of anything, before he would express his opinion on a subject, he must know its origin and history in substance and quality, in magnitude and gravity." We can see this trait of Lincoln's working out, at once remorselessly and gleefully, in the introduction to his famous Coopei ^--"^^^"te speech : . . In his speech last Autumn at Columbus, Ohi< . )r Douglas »aid : "'Our fathers, when they framed the government unr'; r w! ^h we live, understood this question just as well, and even b»^ti.( \' m we do now.' "I fully indorse this, and adopt it as a text for this • le. I so adopt it because it furnishes a precise and an agree g- point for a discussion between the Republicans and th - of the Democracy headed by Senator Douglas. It simply he inquiry: What was the understanding those fathers ' he question mentioned? "What is the frame of government under which we he answer must be, *The Constitution of the United States PERSUASION AND BELIEF 267 "Who were our fathers that framed the Constitution? I sup- pose the 'thirty-nine' who signed the original instrument may be fairly called our fathers who framed that part of the present government. . . . "What is the question which, according to the text, those fathers understood 'just as well, and even better, than we do now'? It is this : Does the proper division of local from Federal authority, or anything in the Constitution, forbid our Federal Government to control as to slavery in our Federal territories? "Upon this, Senator Douglas holds the affirmative, and Republi- cans the negative. This affirmative and denial form an issue. . . . Let us now inquire whether the 'thirty-nine,' or any of them, ever acted on this question ; and if they did, how they acted upon it — how they expressed that better understanding." Mr. Lincoln then shows by the votes of a majority of the "thirty- nine," in Congress and in other public positions, that they acted in a way to indicate that they understood the Constitution as the Republicans, not as Douglas, interpreted it. As an example of a speaker laboring to set himself right before an audience to whom his attitude has been misrepresented, see the introduction to Lincoln's first speech in his debate with Douglas at Alton. Douglas had taken advantage of the fact that the audience was largely pro-slavery in its sympathies, to present Lincoln as an advocate of the complete political and social equality of negroes with the whites. Definition^of terms. It is common experience that argu- ments often turn on misunderstandings ; that when each party to an argument learns what the real contention of the other is, often the argument is over. If, instead of starting an argument with a man who denounces religion and churches, you quietly draw him out, you will find in nine cases out of ten that he is objecting to certain practices of certain churches, or to the actions of certain hypocritical church members, and as a matter of fact be- lieves in religion and churches too. - But even if defini- tion of terms does not remove the issues, or even reduce ^their number, it at least enables us to know what they are. You will notice how Lincoln's definition of *^our fathers,'' just quoted, changes Douglas's statement from a safely vague assertion to a dangerously specific prop- osition. ^68 PUBLK VKING In defining terms the dicti sufficient, as is illustrated by Should American colleges s the present close formation longs rather in the works useful, but by no means all- or Baker with the propQsition, a more open style of play for aition is a problem which be- position. A helpful discussion will be found in Baker's 1 ' :\ ; of Argumentation, pp. 20-42. From the standpoint of p' rsuasiou, the main point is that there should be a common unden r;*- for the sake of avoiding needless rule : and further, that one u*. .ne best ways of clearing up the meanings of terms is by stating the origin and history of the ques- tion. Concessions. In the early days of the European war, when the Germans were sweeping the French back to- wards Paris, I heard an argument on the comparative merits of the French and Germans as fighters. The argu- ment promised to grow heated; but when it was discov- ered that one party was talking of generalship and the other of the fighting qualities of private soldiers, the argu- ment, and not the arguers, ^^blew up." This was partly a matter of definition, but also involved mutual conces- sions. Perhaps the most unpopular man I know is one who never concedes anything in an argument. To the simplest claim, he demurs; to an assertion of the most evident fact, he retorts, ^^That is your opinion. No means of finding common ground, removing distrust and 3stablishing good feeling, is more important than making concessions. Concessions provoke concessions. If you will be generous in admitting that I am in part right, I shall be ashamed to deal otherwise with you. If you are going to take your stand against woman 's suffrage on the ground that the majority of women do ,not desire the ballot, do not antagonize your hearers by refusing to admit that women are capable of voting. The advocates of woman's suffrage are most effective when they admit contention. It may be adc to fix in the minds of his f terms, unless this is necef it is unwise for a speaker to try an unusual meaning for familiar r their preconceptions are apt to PERSL ASION AND BELIEF 269 that woman's place is in the home, and argue that she needs the ballot to protect her home. What one ( annot conscientiously admit, he may ignore, or admit "for the sake of argument''; or he may say of it, ^^I will not contest that." By conceding, one escapes the discredit of a refutation of unjustifiable claims. If you concede woman 's capacity for intelligent voting, you escape a vigorous onslaught which might discredit you with some audiences, and also distract attention from your main argument. In his defense of Father Damien, Stevenson says : ''Damien has been too much depicted with a conventional halo. . . . It is the least defect of such a method of portraiture that it makes the path easy for the deviVs advocate, and leaves for the misuse of the slanderer a considerable field of truth. For the truth that is suppressed by friends is the readiest weapon of the enemy." The real issues. AVhen the common ground is well marked out, definitions and explanations made, conces- sion carried as far as is wise, and immaterial matter eliminated, then the real matter in dispute, if there is anything left, should be evident; and it should then be possible to discuss this with good feeling. To make the issue or issues the more evident, it is well usually, in any but the simplest argument, to state carefully what the speaker maintains and what he understands the opposi- tion to maintain. All this preliminary work should be done with manifest fairness. If you have given an untrue history, distorting or omitting important points, if your definitions are warped, or your proposal or the issues are not fairly set forth, you will be exposed to the charge of trickery, and will deserve the discredit of exposure. Even the man who will concede nothing, who is plainly bigoted and prejudiced, will make a better impression than one who under pretense of fairness attempts to deceive his audi- 270 PUBLIC SPEAKING ence. The best opinion is that, even on the ground of expedienoV when one is striving to win over the un- convir ^en honest partizanship should be excluded fr" ./duetion of an argument. Much emphasis \'ak bvii'vi J laced by Lincoln's contemporaries upon the ex- trcn e iairness with which he would state the facts and T 'jsent the issues of a law suit, frequently alarming his client by the way in which we would ''give away his case. ' ' Any good text on argumentation will give a more complete and technical treatment of methods of analysis of questions for the pur- pose of finding issues, a problem treated here only from the stand- point of persuasion. The second chapter in Baker's Principles of Argumentation and the second chapter in Foster's Argumentation and Debating are recommended. ^ Order of argument. A speaker will usually have at his command several arguments, all sound and legitimate, but some stronger than others. The order in which these should be placed may be determined by the demands of logic or intelligibility ; but not infrequently the arrange- ment is adjustable. In such a case, so far as pure reason is concerned, each argument will have its full force re- gardless of position ; but from the standpoint of persua- sion, of adaptation to a given audience, order may be im- portant. Frequently the order of climax is best ; it usu- ally is if the audience is not strongly in opposition. But with a prejudiced audience it may be necessary to present the strongest possible argument first, in order to get any hearing at all. After a breach in the walls of prejudice has been made by the artillery, the infantry can pass through. To begin with the weaker argument may give the impression that t^ vhole case is weak. On the other hand, anticlimax * ^ avoided. Baker suggests that it is sometimes bes ^e the weaker arguments in PERSUASION AND BELIEF 271 middle of a speech. It may be suggested further that when the strongest argument has been used first, one may return to it at the end, or summarize all in the order of climax. One should not, of course, use arguments that are absolutely weak, even though sound ; that is, weak to the degree that they weaken the case in the minds of the audience or give an opponent an opportunity for telling refutation. Whether one should begin with general principles and proceed to arguments based upon particular facts, and whether one should state in the beginning what he intends to prove, are typical problems of persuavsive argument, to be solved largely with reference to the attitude of the audience. Are the principles likely to be rejected if presented at once ? Is the proposal too startling or too ^n^agohisficT If the audience is not likely to be thrown into opposition there are advantages in setting forth at once what one proposes to establish and upon what principles one rests ; for this enables the audience to see the bearing of each argument as it is brought forward. But where hostility might be awakened by this method, there is an advantage in beginning with a narrative or description of conditions, or whatever will create a mood more favorable to the proposal. One who has to propose a measure rather socialistic in nature as a remedy for some social malady, might dwell first on the malad}^ itself with a view to creating a strong desire for some remedy. He might then eliminate other proposed remedies, leav- ing the one he believes in. If one wishes to secure sub- "scriptions from hard-headed business men for a plan to provide cheap homes for the poor, he might well begin with a demonstration of the sound business aspect of the scheme, showing that it will pay five per cent, on the money invested, before pressing home his plea. 272 PUBLIC SPEAKiy If you wish to bring a rigidly orthodox the "higher criticism" of the Bible, do d which has to them a sinister sound. P with the great value of the Bible, its pi? tell how men give their lives to its stu' all truth about such a book is importan. how and through what agencies the awaken curiosity in some of the prob first evidence which confirms some knowing it, the congregation become cism and realizes that the studies w be reverent. One must not dogmatize or ^'many men have many minds/' and also m iings. Much depends upon the audience and upon the authority and manner of the speaker ; and also upon his precise aims. Wendell Phillips began his famous eulogy of Toussaint L'Ouver- ture by declaring, "I attempt the quixotic effort to convince you that the negro blood, instead of standing at the bottom of the list, is entitled, if judged by its courage, its purpose, or its endurance, to a place as near ours as any other blood known in history.'* We may like the boldness of this ; but I cannot agree with those who think that was a good way to begin, if he really hoped to win assent to his proposition that negro blood is the equal of the blood of the French, Italian, Roman, or Greek. I do not believe that Phillips expected any such triumph over race pride. He wanted to stir up interest and set people thinking. In choosing our opening argument we should remember the tendency of men to believe what they wish to believe. We may find it best sometimes to appeal first to the strongest possible motive^ to set forth the benefits to be derived from our plan before attempting to prove that the benefits will follow, or that the plan is feasible. If you convince a student audience that a proposed coaching system will bring athletic supremacy, you will not have so hard a time in convincing them that the money required can be raised. You may present to a dissolute man the happiness his reform would bring his family so vividly .tion to tolerate with that term, common ground, Cory and religion ; asize the fact that .ural desire to know .s come to us ; and .uthorship, taking up mal belief. Without .ed in the higher criti- y that hated name may PERSUASION AND BELIEF 27^ that he will give eager ear to your argument that reform for him is possible. Given the vision, creating de- sire, belief in possibility will follow. Rate of progress. To proceed too rapidly with your audience militates against both persuasion and conviction. There must be time for attention to dwell upon the ideas. In general, we may assume that country audiences think less rapidly, though more surely, than audiences of equal education, drawn from the rush of city streets, where quick thinking is a necessity of existence. The city audience is quick in its appreciation and applause; but it may follow too readily, and not considering carefully enough, may receive but a shallow impression which is quickly lost for another. With almost any audience ill, is best to proceed slowly, present but one principal ideal and impress that deeply. If your audience is made up of trained thinkers, accus- tomed to dealing with new ideas and to sustaining long lines of thought, and especially if trained in the field of your subject, progress may be more rapid. There is even danger of tantalizing them with too slow progress. How- ever, young speakers are far more likely to proceed too fast than too slow; or, rather, they do not discriminate clearly enough what may be passed rapidly because it is familiar, accepted, easy of comprehension, or less im- portant, from what should be dwelt upon because strange, difficult, or of first-class importance. Fix^d opinions^ principles^ and sentiments. We must take into account those established principles of belief and action which, springing from heredit^^ temperament and early training rather than from reason, men rarely change. Such are our beliefs in regard to the position of women, the rights of private property, our American con- viction that for a city or a university to grow rapidly 274 PUBLIC SPEAKING is a grand thing, our objection to entangling alli- ances. ' ' The truth is somewhat overstated in the following ex- cerpt from Le Bon.^ ^'It must not be supposed that merely because the justness of an idea has been proved it can be productive of effective action, even on cultivated minds. . . . Evi- dence, if it be very plain, may be accepted by an edu- cated person, but the convert will be quickly brought back by his unconscious self to his original conceptions. See him again after the lapse of a few days and he will put forward his old arguments in exactly the same terms. He is in reality under the influence of anterior ideas that have become sentiments, and it is such ideas alone that influence the recondite motives of our acts a^d utter- ances. It cannot be otherwise in the case 'of crowds which are more under the influence of general ideas than individuals. ... A long time is necessary for ideas to establish themselves in the minds of crowds, but just as long a time is necessary for them to be eradicated. ' ' / A limitation is placed on the preceding by this from the same work : ^ *'The opinions and beliefs of crowds may be divided, then, into two very distinct classes. On the one hand we have great permanent beliefs, which endure for sev- eral centuries, and on which an entire civilization may rest; [for example, feudalism] . . . . In the second place, there are the transitory, changing opinions, ... as su- perficial, as a rule, as fashion, i as changeable. . . . It is easy to imbue the mind^ owds with a passing opinion, but very difficult to t therein a lasting belief. . . . Even revolutions . ly when the belief has almost entirely lost its swa nen's minds. . , The beginning of a revolution i. lity the end of belief." " TJie Crowd, p. 52. 2 Me. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 275 Frequently men do not know why they hold these permanent beliefs ; indeed, they may hardly be conscious that they do hold them, having never formulated but merely assumed them. Sometimes they will not, some- times they cannot reason about them. It is a mistake to suppose that men necessarily hold most firmly their reasoned beliefs. In^the first place, the reasoner realizes that another opinion is possible; while one who takes his opinions from his environment and early teaching holds them as the only intelligent views. ''Everybody knows that," he says. In the second place, a reasoned belief is rarely so imbedded in habit of thought and in emotional association as the accepted belief, though it may so grow into one's system of thought that change is well-nigh impossible. And this is true of educated men as well as of others. To a man trained in the older school of thought great must have been the effort necessary fifty years ago to readjust his thinking to the theory of evolution. And if to-day the doctrine of evolution were to be overturned by convincing proofs, v^e should see many men of scientific training protesting violently that the thing is unthink- able, — which for them would be literally true. They would make over again the discredited arguments and declare they could not and would not believe the new theory. It iajpllj^ evidently enough, to try to change a fixed belief in a single speech ; unless it has already been much weakened. The Monroe Doctrine is an example of a belief which it lias been useless to question before the American people until recent years; but to-day, before many audiences, the doctrine is debatable. It would be folly to think to change the belief of the average Ameri- can audience in the republican form of government, or the belief of Roman Catholics in the religious authority of the Pope. It is particularly foolish to attempt to change 276 PUBLIC SPEAKING quickly beliefs that are due largely to native tendencies. In arguing such a question as direct primaries, for ex- ample, we need to consider whether the majority of our audience are of aristocratic or of democratic tendencies. The case is somewhat different when one addresses the same people in a series of speeches covering a considerable time, as does the preacher. But for the most part a speaker must take the fixed opinions and sentiments of his hearers as he finds them, and utilize them or ignore them. If Boston feels, as Oliver Wendell Holmes tells us, that, ''Boston is the hub of the solar system. You could* not pry that out of a Boston man if you had the tire of all creation straightened out for a crowbar, ' ' why, then, when you are talking to Boston, admit it or keep off the subject. After all, men of widely differing prem- ises can work together in harmony. Booker T. Washing- ton and many of his white neighbors could agree on the advisability of industrial education for negroes; but if Mr. Washington had not thoroughly understood his white friends and if he had emphasized the rights which he no doubt believed were his, he could never have won their support. If you are to argue for or against the Monroe Doctrine with men who have the fixed opinion that our international relations are to be determined on the basis of pure self-interest, then there is no use in arguing the good of South America ; you should base your argument upon the interests of the United States. Perhaps you can reach your altruistic alignment by showing that the good of the United States demands the good of South America. Identifying beliefs. To convince or to persuade a man is largely a matter of identifying the opinion or course of action which you wish him to adopt ivith one or more of his fixed opinions or customary courses of action,^. When PERSUASION AND BELIEF 277 his mind is satisfied of the identity, then doubts vanish, and his mind rests upon your proposal with equanimity. Speaking of arriving at a reasoned decision after a strug- gle with the alternatives, J ames says : ^ '*The conclusive reason for the decision in these cases usually is the discovery that we can refer the case to a class upon which we are accustomed to act unhesitatingly in a certain stereotyped way. It may be said in general that a great part of every deliberation consists in the turning over of all the possible modes of conceiving of the doing or not doing of the act in point. The moment we hit upon a conception which lets us apply some prin- ciple of action which is a fixed and stable part of our Ego, our state of doubt is at an end. Persons of author- ity, who have to make many decisions in a day, carry with them a set of heads of classification, each bearing its volitional consequence, and under these they seek as far as possible to arrange each new emergency as it oc- curs. It is where the species is without precedent, to which consequently no cut and dried maxim will apply, that we feel at a loss, and are distressed at the indetermi- nateness of our task. As soon, however, as we see our way to a familiar classification, we are at ease again. In action as in reasoning^ then, the great thing is the quest of the right conception/' When a manager discharges an employee, his process may be like this : Jones is careless in his work. I discharge men who are careless ; therefore, I will discharge Jones. ^ That is, when Jones comes under the classification. Careless men, the decision to dis- charge is almost automatic ; unless Jones chances to come under some other classification, such as men whose family would suffer, or men whom the president favors. Plainly, then, in convincing and persuading, the speaker should seek to show that the belief or action urged is in accord with some conception or ' ' principle of action which is a fixed and stable part of our [hearer's] Ego": 1 Briefer Course, p. 430, 278 PUBLIC SPEAKING or more nearly in accord with such a principle than is contrary course. When one convinces a Democrat ^ the measure urged is in line with Democratic prac or the opponents of militarism that military drill ir universities is one means of making it safe to get on with a small standing army, one is carrying out the suggestion of the above paragraph. A syllogism is only a formal way of putting an identification. The following from Bain is directly in point and worth pon- dering : 1 ''Persuasion implies that some coilrse of conduct shall be so described, or expressed, as to coincide, or be identified, with the active impulses of the persons addressed, and thereby command their adoi>tion of it by the force of their own natural dispositions. A leader of banditti has to deal with a class of persons whose ^ ruling impulse is plunder ; and it becomes his business to show that any scheme of his proposing will lead to this end. A people with an intense, overpowering patriotism, as the old Romans, can be acted upon by proving that the interests of the country are at stake. The fertile oratorical mind is one that can identify a case in hand with a great number of the strongest beliefs of an audi- ence ; and more especially with those that seem, at first sight, to have no connection with the point to be carried. The discovery of identity in diversity is never more called for, than in attempts to mq»ve men to adopt some unwonted course of proceeding. When 'a new reform is introduced in the state, it is usually thought neces- sary (at least in England) to reconcile and identify it in many ways with the venerated Constitution, or with prevailing maxims and modes of feeling, with which it would seem at "variance. To be a persuasive speaker, it is necessary to have vividly present to the view all the leading impulses and convictions of the persons addressed, and to be ready to catch at every point of identity be- cwc ; n these and the proposition suggested for their adoption. The first named qualification grows out of the experience, and study of character ; the other is the natural force of Similarity, which has often been exemplified ^n its highest range in oratorical minds. ^ In the speeches of Burke, we see it working with remarkable vigor. Perhaps the most striking instance of this fertility of identification for persuasive ends is exhibited in Milton's Defense of Unlicensed Printing.'* Questions to consider: What is the relation of the foregoing to what was said in earlier chapters about novelty? What would you say of the force of novelty in persuasion? What is the relation of identification to the attention theory of persuasion? It will be seen by the thoughtful that we are not so m^"^'- ng forward a new principle in«discussing ident • .» as ' he 1 Senses and Intellect, p. r>42, PERSUASION AND BELIEF 279 advantage of another way of looking at what we have discussed under the head of common ground and the topics which follow. Conservative or radical. Nothing is more important in considering the tendencies of an audience with reference to persuasion, than their relative conservatism and radi- calism. Will they take kindly to new proposals, or stand firmly for the ''old landmarks"? It will be convenient to discuss this topic from the standpoint of one seeking to move his hearers from a conservative position. Any intelligent student should be able to adapt this discussion to the reverse process, and will find this an interesting study. Teachers may find it advantageous to base quiz and examination questions upon the means of checking movements that chance to be before / the country. % There is no intention of implying at any point that conservatism is unwise ; indeed, it is necessary that we should be controlled by conservatives, and fortunate that they are usually in the majority. It is also fortunate that there are others who would push on and dare experiments. It is the speaker's business to know what kind of people he is dealing with. He may be aided by certain general considerations. \i Conservatism characteristic of the English-speaking peoples. It is not the way of the so-called Anglo-Saxons to change their institutions in a wholesale way. We are told that in contrast the Latin peoples, having adopted a belief, wish to work it out at once into a consistent system. So Lavisse speaks^ of England as *'a country of slow continuous transformations, in which the present is not separated from the past by visible lines of demarca- tion." But in speaking of the Fi'cnch Revolution, he says, that, *'when owing to the faults of its kings, the country detached itself from royalty, it raised itself at once to the idea of humanity." The change in England from an almost absolute mon- archy to one of the freest of governments has been 1 Political History of Europe^ p. 141. 280 PUBLIC SPEAKING brought about piecemeal and by a series of compromises. Very rarely do we Americans change our Constitution. We wait for the slow process of judicial construction. And when we do change we like to think we are only following in the path marked out by the fathers. We assume that the founders of our government, who lacked national experience, who dealt with a situation vastly different from our own, and who ascribed little enough wisdom to each other, yet somehow had a marvelous fore- sight for the problems of to-day. In the Cooper Union speech Lincoln did not question the declaration that the fathers understood the slavery question better than the men of the '50 's, but showed that the fathers agreed with the Republicans rather than with the Douglas Demo- crats. (a speaker must reckon with the strongly conservative tendency of our peopled He must not expect to win favor for revolutionary chaffge; and must be content in most cases with the half loaf. They will prefer to tinker up the old rather than to adopt a completely new system. And this was just as true in the year 1912, when nearly every man asserted that he was progressive and some trembled because of the revolutionary changes they saw rushing upon us, as at any time. The young speaker, full of enthusiasm for new cures and reforms, will do well to note this tendency to make haste slowly; for it furnishes a mighty fulcrum for his opponent. Just a sneer at youthful radicalism may defeat him. The enthusiast who disregards human nature or thinks it easily set on fire for new causes or new methods, may consider the follow- ing from a speech by Liberty Hyde Bailey, delivered while he was Director of the New York State College of Agriculture, and he should remember that the attitude ascribed to the farmer is that of the majority of our solid followers of routine ; that is, of the ma- jority of men : PERSUASION AND BELIEF 281 "The farmer comes in contact with things that do not change j vfiry easily. I once asked a farmer why he did not blast out a rock. Ife said, 'It has always been there.' After a two-days' institute in a school house, I was interested to know how the farmers felt .'about it, whether they were confused by the multitude of matters presented. I chanced to overhear two men speaking. One said, 'Well, Henry, what do you think of it?' and Henry replied, *Let 'em go it ; they can't hurt me none.' " Some forces against change. We have to reckon on certain influences in opposition to change. Those whose incomes may suffer, will oppose.^ Resistance may be ex- pecte(3, also, from those who represent institutions af- fected by the change, whether these are railways, col- leges, or churches, unless the change be asked for by themselves. Institutions almost invariably grow con- servative: even a socialist party obeys the tendency. Those who exercise authority, from emperors and senates to athletic councils and committees of college faculties, favor change only in the direction of placing more power in their own hands. Desiring efficiency, and perhaps un- consciously desiring power, they dislike all change in the direction of democracy. Moreover, there is a strong tendency to resist changes that affect one's routiue and habits; for change compels one to take thought. A manufacturer of much experience with workingmen tells me that they will resist changes of method which actu- ally lighten their labor and increase their safety. In the powerful speech made by Elihu Root in the New York Con- stitutional Convention, on August 30, 1915, in favor of the ''short ballot," he dwelt upon the many evidences of popular demand for the measure, in spite of which certain office holders were sure the people were opposed. He continued : "My friend, Mr. Brackett, sees nothing wrong about [the govern- ment of the State ]^ He has been fifteen years in the Senate. . . . Why should he see anything wrong? My friend. Mr. Greene, is comfortably settled in the^ Excise Department, and he sees nothing wrong. "There never was a refom in administration in this world which 1 See, below* the quotation from Bryce, under "Respect for Audi- ences " 282 PUBLIC SPEAKING did not have to make its way against the strong feeling c honest men, concerned in existing methods of administratic who saw nothing wrong. It is no impeachment of a man esty, his integrity, that he thinks the methods that he is fa with and in which he is engaged, are ail right. But you c. make any improvement in this world without overriding t])e !t faction that men have in things as they are, and of which they a contented and successful part." Crowds are conservative. We here take the ter crowds broadly, not limiting it merely to bodies of peopl together at one spot, but including homogeneous com- munities, states, or peoples. This is the sense in which Le Bon uses the word. We are prepared by what he says of the slowness of crowds in receiving new ideas, for this statement.^ *'It is difficult to understand history, and popular revolutions in particular, if one does not take into ac- count the profoundly conservative instincts of crowds. They may be desirous, it is true, of changing the names of their institutions, . . . but the essence of these insti- tutions is too much the expression of the hereditary needs of the race for them not invariably to abide by it. ' ' Such groups as student bodies are conservative. There is a *'vast inertia'' in the mass of men who make up the electorate of a state. They must always be behind the thinkers of the age. A leader, we have been told by George William Curtis, ^^must not be too far ahead of his age ; but up with his age and ahead of it only just so far as to be able to lead its march." It is a truism, well expressed in Lowell's Present Crisis, that humanity has often crucified and burned those too far in the lead, and then has built monuments to them when the race has caught up. But we should not overlook the fact that the masses do move forward, and that it may be splendidly worth 1 The Crowd, p. 42. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 283 while to take a position far in advance ; or, dropping the figure, to work for clianges that may be expected only in the distant future. The fact that the mass of men change but slowly makes prolonged agitation necessary. Wendell Phillips spoke out of experience when he said in his Phi Beta Kappa address : ''As Emerson says, 'What the tender and poetic youth dreams to-day, and conjures up in inarticulate speech, is to-morrow the vociferated result of public opinion, and the day after is the charter of nations.' Lieber said, in 1870, 'Bismarck proclaims to-day in the Diet the very principles for which we were hunted and exiled fifty years ago.' Submit to risk your daily bread, expect social ostracism, count on a mob now and then, 'be in earnest, don't equivocate, don't excuse, don't retreat a single inch,' and you will finally be heard. No matter how long and weary the waiting, at last, — " *Ever the truth comes uppermost, And ever is justice done. For humanity sweeps onward : Where to-day the martyr stands, On the morrow crouches Judas With the silver in his hands.' " Not all attempts at reform arouse mob violence, but all do provoke some degree of resistance and resentment. The main point for us here is that a very great degree of change cannot be hoped for at once, that radical change demands a campaign, which may require months and may run into many years. After the campaign for civil serv- ice reform had been on for twenty years, a stump speaker could safely refer to it as "snivel service reform." Woman's suffrage was an organized movement in the first half of the last century, and prohibition in the seventies ; yet until within five years in most parts of the country they have been freely ridiculed. Many a reform must wait for a new generation to arise. 284 PUBLIC SPEAKING Further considerations in judging conservatism. The speaker may well ask himself, Is this audience accus- tomed to considering new ideas, and therefore less dis- trustful of them, simply because they are new ? Are my hearers property owners, with established businesses, and therefore interested in preserving the status quo? Is my audience composed of elderly people, who have lived long enough to see many panaceas fail, and have, there- fore, grown weary of new proposals ? It would be rash, however, to suppose that all old men are conservative and all young men radical. A young conservative is fiercer in his fighting for the old way than an old conservative, who is less alarmed about the probability of change. But no doubt, in general, age increases hesitancy to take up new ideas and ways, and decreases ability to do so. An economist of reputation, about forty years of age, tells me that as a student he was strongly conservative, but finds himself growing more radical every year. He declares that economists as a group are radical. He quotes a distinguished economist past middle life who declares he is growing radical year by year, but finds historians still more radical. These men, students of the past as well as of the present, realize that history is not static, but a process of change and evolution. They are not like a freshman who, finding a custom, established last year, in vogue in his college, thinks it a hoary tradi- tion. They realize well that the impossibilities of fifty years ago are the commonplaces of to-day, and they are not unduly awed by the wisdom of the past. Their minds are therefore open to proposed improvements, though they demand good evidence. One such man has described himself as a "conservative radical." Lawyers and ecclesiastics, on the contrary, trained to accept the authority of the past, are likely to be conservative. The principles illustrated in this paragraph should prove suggestive to the speaker in "sizing up" a situation. The newer parts of the country may be expected, in general, to be less influenced by conventional ideas, cus- toms and precedents. In New England and in the South are more of those influential families whose pride is in PERSUASION AND BELIEF 285 the past and who hold that the • act that things have been so is an excellent reason why they should remain so. A magazine story describes a mental state that cannot safely be ignored in many quiet old towns, where the innovator will be calmly pushed aside : Miss Winifred Atwood's bird bath, an artistic antique bit of Florentine marble, stands on the edge of the new golf links, and in danger. But ^'before the golf club was started there was no need of a fence be- tween their house and that portion rented from them. Afterward no fence was erected, because there had never been a fence there — which is always an unanswerable argument in our town." And it will be found just as unanswerable in opposition to fences proposed against moral or other dangers in that town. But one must not reckon too much on sectional charac- teristics, except with reference to particular questions. While the West seems to be particularly friendly to po- litical innovations, it is far more orthodox in religion than New England. Much depends in any section, also, upon the quality of its leadership. New Jersey under the leadership of Governor Wilson seemed a very differ- ent State from the New Jersey of two years before. Conservative or radical concerning the particular prop- osition ? Men may be conservative toward some proposi- tions and liberal toward others. Is your audience well accustomed to hearing discussions of municipal reform, or will your plan for a stringent building code seem a startling innovation? Are commission government and short ballots quite foreign to their experience, or are these systems in force in neighboring communities ? Are you to address a body of reformers, or a body composed of those inclined to think the effect of a measure upon profits more important than its effect upon tenement dwellers? Are you arguing for strict enforcement of liquor laws before a body whose creed is, ''Business is business," and are fearful that a ''dry" town means a falling off in trade? Is the body before whom you are ^86 PUBL iiAKING urging a county tube? i'tt'o hospital composed chiefly of tax-payers? If so, .otive is stronger with them than low taxes? Ar iiscussing a labor problem before socialists or men who, like most business men and farmers, resent interference with the individual 's conduct of his own affairs ? Are you discussing the Indian ques- tion before Eastern people who are impressed with the wrongs of the * ' noble red man, ' ' or before Western peo- ple who incline to the view that *^the only good Indian is a dead Indian"? Are you trying to secure acceptance for the results of modern Biblical criticism from an audi- ence hostile to the ^'higher criticism," or from one that likes to think itself advanced ? Overcoming conservatism. Since men are often re- pelled by new ideas simply because they are new, and may even have a fear of unfamiliar courses,^ we do well I toy mphasize the familiar rather than the unfamiliar as- I pect of our proposal^ It should be described in familiar / terms, illustrated ^^ith familiar experiences, identified / with familiar actions and ideas, and supported by famil- ! iar authorities and proverbs. Stress should be laid upon the common ground. Since men are much under the in- fluence of names, conventions and forms of institutions, we should not ask for changes in these beyond what is necessary. Augustus changed the government of Rome into a monarchy, but preserved so far as possible the forms of the old Republic. The same officials and official bodies remained, but with different powers. So long as the Senate met and styles in togas were unchanged, there were many unable to see how the liberties of Rome were passing. Very important, also, in overcoming reluc- tance to change, is giving one^s hearers a vivid imagina- tive conception of the methods and situation one proposes 1 Cf. McDougall, Social Psychology, p. 54, PERSUASION AND BELIEF 287 to bring about ; for this aids in removing the feeling of unfamiliarity. "We have already noted the truth that we should not expect men to change their opinions rapidly. We must give time and opportunity to grow accustomed to a new proposition, for the natural distrust to wear away and for the ideas to be assimilated. Benjamin Franklin, a master molder of public opinion, used to begin, not by calling a meeting of the citizens of Philadelphia and ask- ing them to accept his proposal at once, but by accustom- ing the public mind to his plans by prolonged newspaper discussion before calling his meeting. Making ideas familiar by repetition is highly important to the art of publicity." Advertisers have a maxim, Repetition is reputation.'' And, as Mr. Dooley says, ^^I 11 belave anything at all, if you '11 only tell it to me often enough." It is sometimes wise to begin with mild suggestions and gradually develop them ; again, one may do better to set forth the proposal in its most startling form, and then, when excited opposition has grown up, to relieve anxiety by showing various modifications and limitations which make the proposal less radical than it seemed. One might guess that Mr. Roosevelt is not a stranger to this method. It is a good way of winning attention ; but it may cause misunderstanding and misrepresentations, which, when emphasized by opponents, are hard to eradi- cate from the popular mind. The method may also gain for one the reputation of being ''unsafe." Which is the better salesmauship : To advertise a car for $950, and then add extras bringing the price for a well fitted car up to $1200 ; or to fix the price at $1400 and then show how this might be cut down to $1200 by omitting certain features? Which is the bet- ter politics : To demand a sweeping tariff reduction and accept a moderate measure ; or to ask for a little and work for more when 288 PUBLIC SPEAKING the public is accustomed to the idea ; or to demand precisely what you want and stand by the demand? 4 The power of facts. We should never forget, in this connection or any other, the power of plain facts. One hard fact, so presented that it is seen to be important, may outweigh all logic and all rhetoric. The facts should be so presented that they do not unnecessarily antagonize by convicting the audience of ignorance. The facts may show that the situation upon which the audience has based its opinion has radically changed ; as when one, in arguing for restriction of immigration, shows that the character of our immigration has changed. Or a new statement of familiar facts may, by its imposing array, break down opposition. So the advocate of ^S^otes for women'' places before her opposing sisters instance after instance of the unfairness of man-made laws. Speakers are tempted to present doubtful facts, or fskts which only the most partizan mind can accept; as when a prohibition speaker attempts to declare pre- cisely how many children have died and how many men have become criminals because of strong drink. Such statements may deceive the uncritical, but not the thoughtful. The power of facts to overcome doubt, op- position and conservatism rests upon their acceptance as beyond question. Precedent. The conservatives are much influenced by the fact that the same thing, or nearly the same thing, has been done before, that what may have seemed a radical change is after all proved by experience. To most Americans the proposition that our courts should be deprived of the jjower to declare legislation unconsti- tutional is startling; but at least a hearing can be won by pointing out that in most of the countries of the world, this power is not given to the courts. Where you PERSUASION AND BELIEF 289 will find one to welcome a plan because it is untried, and therefore an attractive venture, you v^ill find twenty, and those twenty of the influential, ^^safe and sane,'' mem- bers of the audience, who are uneasy and inattentive until they learn that the method has been in successful opera- tion in some community. The character of that commu- nity counts for much. If it is similar to our own, as another American state of equal rank, the precedent will be effective. The average man is much less influenced by the fact that New Zealand has an old age pension • system than that England and Germany have such sys- tems. Prestige counts. The thoughtful man will also de- mand that conditions in any community cited as a prec- edent be similar to those in his own community, as af- fecting the matter in hand. It is most effective to show that we ourselves have been doing all the time practically what is proposed, or did so at one time. The advocates of the popular review of judicial decisions, ' ' tried to relieve the burden of radi- cal change by arguing that this is only another way of amending constitutions. Socialistic propaganda is much aided, and the term socialism is gradually be- ing relieved of its opprobrium, as we come to realize that our schools, post-offices and hospitals are socialistic. Municipal ownership of street railways is not so shock- ing when we consider our city-owned water and lighting systems; and we view government regulation of corpo- rate industries with less alarm as we think of the work of the Interstate Commerce Commission. Precedent may be connected with the motive of emu- lation, when we recite how another person, town or coun- try is in advance of us. A suffrage advocate declares: *'We are behind Norway, Sweden, Austria, China, lee- land. In fact, women in every other country of the 290 P SPEAKING globe have more i power than do those of our own Empire State." One feels that this is a very im- portant statement, very humiliating, if true. This reminds us that citing precedent is a method of argument much open to rebuttal, not only on the ground \ of failure to show similarity of conditions, but of failure to state true facts. Even the honest speaker is pecul- iarly tempted to misstate facts in such sweeping generali- zations as that just quoted. The dishonest speaker finds ' precedent an effective means of deception. Just as pro- moters of dubious companies tell glowing stories of the great profits of similar companies and of gold mines right beside the promoters' properties; so one argu- ing for a minimum wage law cites the examples of Aus- tralia and England. But an opponent points out that industrial conditions in those countries make the prece- dents invalid, or that the law advocated differs materially from those cited. It is worth the while of any speaker to study the methods of refuting the fallacies arising from precedent and analogy, and these will be found well treated in texts on argumentation. Precedent, prestige and authority may operate as suggestions which influence us without deliberation on our part. I am speak- ing of them here as they are consciously taken into account ; e.g.. Germany, a country which has carried governmental efliciency to a high point, has adopted old age pensions ; therefore the system is worthy consideration. * The sudden growth of prohibition sentiment in the last five years would make an interesting study in persuasion. I believe it would be found that these elements have been important : First, the im- pression made upon children in the schools by the teaching of the evils of alcohol, — children who are now coming into power ; second, the establishing of certain scientific facts in regard to drink ; and third, action on the part of great corporations with regard to the habits of their employees, and the measures of European govern- ments since the war began. With every gain in "dry" territory in the United States, also, the average man, who not long ago laughed PERSUASION AND BELIEF 291 at the movement and perhaps drinks a bit himself, grows more im- pressed and more ready to give the matter serious attention. That is, we have to consider the element of time, of facts, and of prestige. Authority. In our conservative phase, we are much relieved by learning that a given proposal has the in- dorsement of those whom we respect as authorities. Who is there among us who does not accept some book or some man, father, teacher, preacher or specialist, as au- thority almost beyond question, if not upon all subjects, at least upon some? Most of our opinions are based upon little else than authority, though we may have for- gotten what authority. Men will have authority in one form or another. Those of scientific habit of thought are less under the influence of authority than others; but no man can prove all things." Many things we must accept from those whose business it is to know. Many of our facts we must receive and give out on authority. We should be chary of accepting mere opinions, but must in practice accept them at times ; and we often have to accept conclusions which are com- pounded of observed facts and skilful deduction, as when a statistician works out from census statistics con- clusions concerning the divorce problem. The use of authorities is more a matter of persuasion than of logic; and since authorities are rarely well used by young speakers, I shall treat the topic at some length. Those who wish to pursue the psychological phase of this subject will find discussions in Mc- Dougall's Social Psychology and Ross's work of the same title. (See their indexes under Prestige.) They treat the subject, how- ever, as a matter of suggestion. Persuasive use of authorities. The primary requisite is, of course, that your authority be accepted as such by your audience. There is some effect from the quotation of even an unknown man's opinion. At least one other man has believed as the speaker believes. If the opinion 292 PUBLIC SPEAKING comes with a touch of literary style, its value is increased. It is told that DeWitt Talmage, whose sermons were printed weekly in papers throughout the country for many years, directed his assistants to look up each week two or three pat literary quotations to enforce the central thought of his sermon. We have an habitual deference toward quoted authorities, especially when they are cited from, print. I once knew a woman who believed all she read in newspapers. Few more intelligent people com- pletely outgrow the superstitious awe of book covers. To be of full effect, however, and to withstand the attacks of opponents, your authorities should meet certain tests, though it will be clear that not every authority used need meet all the tests that follow. Too many speakers simply hurl a name or quotation at an audience, regard- less of value or of pertinence. .1. Is your authority known to th<3 ..audience? In a debate on woman's suffrage both sides quoted repeatedly from this and that person regarding Colorado's experi- ence ; but as the persons named were unknown to us, the quotations were of little effect. Paraphrasing the old couplet. If your authority be not authority to me, what care I how authoritative he be? The names of Edison and Burbank will go further with general audiences than those of many greater scientists. 2. Is your authority known to the audience as author- ity on the question under argument? The opinions of some men will be of weight upon almost any problem. The unthinking will accept them without question ; while the thoughtful will hold that men of such poise, wisdom and impartiality will not be likely to utter an opinion except upon good ground. Yet we must recognize that while a justice of the Supreme Court of the United PERSUASION AND BELIEF 293 States is a weighty authority upon a question of law, upon an economic, social, or political question his judg- ment is not necessarily of importance. 3. What is the emotional attitude of your audience toward your authority ? The fact that a man is of a cer- tain school of thought, or party, or church may create prejudice against him. In spite of his wonderful oppor- tunities for observation, there are audiences who would accept Mr. Roosevelt as authority on scarcely any ques- tion. 4. Does your authority, though lacking popular repu- tation, hold a position which gives him authority in the public mind ? Walter F. Willcox needs no introduction to some audiences as a statistician of great ability and rare impartiality; other audiences would accept him when told that he was chief statistician of the Twelfth Census. Some would be favorably impressed when told that he is Professor of Statistics in Cornell University; while others would reject his authority on the ground that all professors are mere theorists. 5. Has your authority had exceptional advantages for learning the truth ? In the debate above referred to, some weight was attached to statements by the governors of states in which woman's suffrage has been tried. Is the physician called as an insanity expert one who has had exceptional experience, as in an insane asylum? The fact that a man is a lawyer, an engineer, an agri- culturist, does not make him authority on all the prob- lems of his profession. What special advantages has he had? If you wish to quote an authority on Chinese af- fairs, it is worth while to state the facts which give him authority; e.g., ''President Goodnow of Johns Hop- kins Universit3^, wlio has been legal adviser to President 294 PUBLIC SPEAKING Yuan Shi-Kai," — a position which marks him as a man of recognized judgment and of exceptional opportunities for observation. There are some things the man on the field can know better than any student of the event; but it does not follow that the soldier who fought at Gettysburg, or even the commander of a brigade, can write a more accurate description than a historian born since the event. It is well recognized that no man can write an authoritative history of his own times ; he can only furnish the raw ma- terial which later historians can use in forming unbiased judgments. Still this is not true in the popular mind, and one should hesitate to quote, let us say, a recent his- torian against General Lee. If this be necessary, one should explain the historian's advantages. 6. Is your .authority sjenkir>g gji^ jinhif|<^ judgfp^ ent ? If he speaks as a partizan, an advocate, or from self- interest or prejudice, we discount his utterance ; for we assume that, though he may be capable and honest, he cannot ^^see straight," even on a matter of pure fact. Evidence for the side he favors looks very important to him, and evidence against his side seems unworthy at- tention. Do not quote, therefore, the opinion of a ship- builder on shipping subsidies, or that of either the presi- dent of a temperance union or the owner of a brewery on prohibition.^ When feasible, quote the words of men known as im- partial investigators. Often one can draw from govern- ment documents and other standard reports, such as the Report of the Industrial Commi ^^^^n, census reports, or the Statesman's Yearbook. Th ks will generally be accepted as to facts, not n< ly as to opinions. There are other works that hav il acceptance, such 1 Of. Foster, Argumentation and 1 p. G4. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 295 as Bryce's American Commonwealth, which will be taken, not as final, but as weighty authority, containing the observations of a well-informed, fair-minded, keen and sympathetic foreign observer. The nature of the question at issue is important. Any reputable scientist or historian will be accepted as to established facts, but not necessarily as to disputed facts and opinions. Woodrow Wilson has written of Macaulay as an historian : ^ Macaulay the Whig, subtly turning narrative into argument, and making history the vindication of a party. The mighty narrative is a great engine of proof. It is not told for its own sake. It is evidence summed up in order to justify a judgment. We detect the tone of the advocate, and though if we are just we must deem him honest, we cannot deem him safe. ' ' Very effective at times is a statement from one who naturally inclines to the opposition. Mr. Roosevelt be- gan an article in 1912 : ' ' The Chicago Evening Post and the Indianapolis Star were originally Taft papers. They believed that the voters ought to choose Mr. Taft over me in the primaries." He then proceeded to tell how these papers charged dishonesty against the Repub- lican National Committee in securing his defeat in the Republican national convention of that year. The pre- sumption was that these papers had made these charges only upon strong evidence. Reform of court procedure would not be much advanced by citing in its favor men who are continually finding fault, in a radical spirit, with whatever is; but when such well-known conservative lawyers as Ex-President Taft, Elihu Root and Alton B. Parker unite in denouncing the present procedure, we feel that there must be great justification. 1 Mere Literature and Other Essays, p. 168. 296 PUBL AKING 7. Has the authority . given credence by oppo« nents? This is not meant co imply that any authority used by an opponent must thereafter be accepted by them; but if they have put much stress upon an au- thority, they at least have difficulty in rejecting him, when cited by others. In the Cooper Union speech Lincoln made good use of Douglas's authority. 8. When and where did your authority express him- self? At what period of his life? Before or after in- vestigation and experience? Woodrow Wilson the gov- ernor of New Jersey begged leave to withdraw the opin- ion of Woodrow Wilson the Princeton scholar, upon direct primaries. Was the scientist you quote expressing a de- liberate judgment, or giving rein to his fancy, or speak- ing facetiously, as Dr. Osier spoke when he caused so much mistaken agitation by declaring that men should be chloroformed at sixty? Was the statement made in a political campaign, or after the dust had settled ? In the midst of conflict, or with historical perspective? Usually the deliberately made statement has the greater weight; but in some instances greater significance at- taches to statements made before time for forgetfulness or deliberate falsification has elapsed. 9. In what manner did the alleged authority express himself ? In a speech ? If so, formal or informal ? In a newspaper article or interview ? In a carefully edited review? Or in a serious volume? Book covers do not change lies into truth, or fallacies into logic ; but we are certainly the more impressed by a statement the more careful its preparation and the more permanent its form. 10. ^*'Is too great reliance placed on one authority? Writers and speakers seldom address a group of people 1 Foster's Argumentation and Dehatingy p. 67. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 29? who are willing to accept the testimony of any one man as final. . . . The concurrent testimony of two or more authoricies to the same essentials, where there has been apparently no opportunity or motive for previo:as agree- ment, strengthens the probability of truth. . . . An ex- ample may be taken from an address by Dr. Dudley A. Sargent before the New England Association of Colleges and Preparatory Schools : " 'Criminals, dullards, the feeble-minded, and th-. insane as a class are considerably beiow the average normal individual in physique, as shown by height and weight. ... In the year 1893, Dr. William T. Porter examined some thirty thousand children who were in the public schools of St. Louis. He found that, among pupils of the same age, the average height and weight of those who were of the higher grades was greater than that of those who were in the lower grades. . . . This announcement called forth consid- erable criticism at the time. ... It may be of interest, therefore, to note that Dr. Porter^s conclusions have since been confirmed by the observations made by Dr. Hastings in Omaha, Nebraska, Dr. Byer in Cambridge, Dr. Christopher in Chicago, and by Dr. Leharzig in St. Petersburg, Russia. In the face of such a body of concur- rent statistics from different parts of this country and Europe, no one can doubt for a moment the natural relationship between a vigorous brain and a vigorous body.' " A scientist supports his statements with a long list of authorities, quoted at length. The reader may skip all he does not care to read. But in public speech, while all I have quoted from President Foster is sound, we must beware of boring our hearers who cannot so readily es- cape. You will notice that audiences rarely listen well to long extracts, unless the reading is very good indeed. Choose out the best of your possible authorities, and make your quotations as brief and as much to the point as is practicable, having due regard for the other requiremen.ls for the good use of authorities. 11. Is your use of authority explicit? In the first place, it is usually well to state who your authority is and where the statement used is to be found, unless this is ob- viously unnecessary, as in the case of familiar quota- PUBLIC SPEAKING tions from Shakespeare or the Bible. Foster ^ properly condemns such phrases as these : Statistics gathered with great care show — Many proper men agree — Competent authorities say — We could give hundreds of cases to show — **It is a bare assertion to say that the number of estab- lishments maintaining the ten-hour day is increasing. To say that you have the statement on 'good authority' is no better. To say that you depend for authority on the words of Carroll D. Wright is one step in advance. Still the reference is not sufficiently definite. It would be better to say : ' Carroll D. Wright, formerly United States Commissioner of Labor, says, in the introduction to his annual report for 1904, that the number of estab- lishments maintaining the ten-hour day is increasing.' " In the second place, it is better practice to quote the words of your authority, when this is feasible, than to give a paraphrase. Paraphrases give opportunity for some of the worst trickery of debaters, in the way of garbling and distorting the statements of authorities. It is frequently profitable to demand or to look up the origi- nals of an opponent's paraphrases. Whoever para- phrases the statements of others, under circumstances in which he may he tempted to distort, lays himself open to the suspicion of thoughtful men. Even the most honest of debaters will color such restatements with their own prejudices. There are, of course, times when strictness is unnecessary; but at best the paraphraser makes him- self the authority, and he should be confident that he will be accepted in that role. You will note in the quotation from Dr. Sargent above, that the speaker in citing the findings of Dr. Porter does not give his words, or state where they may be found ; and that in giving supporting 1 Argumentation and Debating^ p. 59. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 299 testimony of other investigators he merely declares their findings were in harmony with Dr. Porter's. Dr. Sargent is speaking before a body little likely to question his statements of fact. The point under discussion is definite and not liable to be colored by preju- dice. Furthermore, there may have been those present or among the probable readers of the paper on its publication, who would challenge any misstatement. There are times when a statement made in public acquires a certain validity from the fact that its author would hardly risk the exposure of misstatements. Never- theless, I believe that, even in this case, more explicit reference to the authorities would have been wise. In some college debates upon *'the popular review of judicial de- cisions," speakers persistently rattled off lists of cases which they declared illustrated how the courts refuse, or are unable, under the "due process clause" of the Constitution, to do justice to working- men. No statements of the facts of the cases, and not even cita- tions from the opinions, were made. Such use of authority should influence only the simplest; and its effect should certainly be de- stroyed for all by a simple challenge. Let me here register a protest against the practice of young de- baters of waving aloft a letter and shouting, hold in my hand a letter from the Honorable Silas Bunk, Member of Congress from Bunkum, and he says the tariff is a tax !'* Not the least of the objections to this practice is the nuisance these debaters commit in deluging men of prominence with requests for opinions on all sorts of questions. They frequently ask for matter that would cost days of preparation. They usually get the vaguest of replies, of extremely little value. This same sort of a debater often holds up a ponderous tome, makes a loose statement in regard to its contents, and then stalks across and slams it down on the table of his opponents with a chal- lenge to refute his statements, — a little task which would require some hours of reading. In a recent debate the members of one team simply carried great books under their arms, without opening them or making a single definite reference to their contents. This would seem to be carrying the game of "bluff" to its logical extreme. 12. Are you citing authority to support what needs support? The fact that one has a good citation should not lead him to use it where no support is needed, or where there is ample support of a stronger sort. The above are the "more important considerations which affect the use of authorities. If one says that it is im- soo PUBLIC SPEAKING possible to support the use of authorities with such care as is indicated, the answer is tliat the degree of care depends upon the circumstances of each case; but that in no case is there any use of citing authorities in such a way that they will not be accepted. But frequently, after all, an authority may be cited effectually in a very simple way. When you say, ' ' General Grant states in his Memoirs at page 503 — " you have said all that can be said; not that Grant is always final authority, but that nothing further would add weight to your citation. Attacking authorities. We should not be unduly awed by authorities when they are cited against us. There are some which before some audiences it is useless to at- tack. Before most audiences the authority of the Bible is final; but Scripture has often been answered with Scripture. Very often we can show that a quotation taken from unimpeachable authority does not mean, taken with its context or under the circumstances of its utterance, what it has been made to mean ; or we may be able to show that the one quoted later changed his mind. If one is sure of his ground, he may attempt to refute the opinion of almost any authority. This one should do modestly, but without apology, setting forth facts and arguments which do overcome the great man's opin- ion. After all, authorities are rarely infallible, and the most firmly held opinions of the greatest thinkers are toppled over. The science and philosophy of yesterday are the exploded theories of to-day, and the superstitions of to-morrow. Darwin no longer has the last word on evolution. One should not let himself be clubbed into submission with great names. If Shakespeare is hurled at him, he may point out that Shakespeare spoke in many characters, and that it is impossible, in most cases, tc determine what the playwright really believed. If the PERSUASION AND BELIEF 301 great na^ne be Washington, one may express his respect for the Father of his Country, and yet apply certain tests ; as, Did Washington, in uttering the words quoted, have in mind just such a situation as we face ? One may venture, with care, to ask why Washington should be assumed to have had a wisdom equal to guiding us in all respects to-day, a wisdom he would not have claimed for a moment. Why should it be thought that Monroe, or John Quincy Adams, should guide us in dealing with Mexico ? We must, however, take cognizance of the danger from laying ourselves open to the sneer, ^ ' He thinks he knows more than Washington ! ' ' In one short speech the task of overcoming a great name may be too difficult to at- tempt. Frequently it is best to ignore an authority which has great influence, rather than to emphasize its im- portance by futile attack. Prove your case otherwise ; or hurl greater authority, or a large number of good author- ities, at your opponent's position. There are not many who would ve^cure so far as did Webster, in the following incident, which illustrates the importance of the repu- tation of the speaker who defies authority : i "In the celebrated ^mitJi Will trial, his antagonist, Mr. Choate, quoted a decision of Lord Chancellor Camden. In his reply, Web- ster argued against its validity as though it were a proposition laid down by Mr. Choate. 'But it is not mine, it is Lord Camden's,* was the instant retort. Webster paused for half a minute, and then, with his eye fixed on the presiding judge, he replied : 'Lord Cam- den was a great judge ; he is respected by every American, for he was on our side in the Revolution ; but, may it please your honor, I differ from Lord Oamden.' There was hardly a lawyer in the United States who could have made such a statement without ex- posing himself to ridicule ; but it did not seem at all ridiculous, when the '1' stood for Daniel Webster." The following from Lincoln, in discussing the Dred Scott Deci- sion by the Supreme Court, is at once an instance of a bold facing of an imposing authority, and, as Poster points out, a statement of how such an authority may be tested. If memory serves, both i- Whipple, Webster as a Master of Enplish Style, 302 PUBLIC SPEAKING Bryan aild Roosevelt have used this passage to them in questioning decisions of this court. "Judicial decisions are of greater or less authority as precedents according to circumstances. That this should be so accords both with common sense and the customary understanding of the legal profession. "If this important decision had been made by the unanimous con- currence of the judges, and without any apparent partizan bias, and in accordance with legal public expectation and with the steady practice of the departments throughout our history, and had been in no part based on assumed historical facts, which are not really true ; or, if wanting in some of these, it had been before the court more than once and had there been affirmed and reaffirmed through a course of years, it might then be, perhaps would be, factious, nay even revolutionary, not to acquiesce in it as a precedent. "But when, as is true, we find it wanting in all these claims to the public confidence, it is not factious, it is not even disrespectful, to treat it as not having yet quite established a settled doctrine for the country." Lincoln, of course, substantiated and amplified the assertions of this compact passage. This necessity of opposing a decision of the Supreme Court was a serious burden upon Lincoln, throughout his debates with Douglas, and again and again he defends himself. In his debate at Quincy he says : "We do not propose that when Dred Scott has been decided to be a slave by the court, we, as a mob, will decide him to be free. . . . We propose so resisting as to have the decision reversed if we can, and a new judicial rule established upon this subject." At Galesburgh, he cites authorities that Douglas is bound to re- spect as a Democrat : "Jefferson said that ^Judges are as honest as other men, and not more so.' And he said, substantially, *that whenever a free people should give up in absolute submission to any department of government, retaining for themselves no appeal from it, their lib- erties were gone.' " At Ottawa Lincoln not only cited famous Democrats, but made Douglas himself furnish a precedent : ^ "This man sticks to a decision . . . not because he says it is right in itself . . . but because it has been decided hy the court; and ... a decision of the court is to him a 'Thus saith the Lord.' ... It is nothing that I point out to him that his great prototype, General Jackson, did not believe in the binding force of decisions. It is nothing that Jefferson did not so believe. ... I will tell him, though, that he now claims to stand on the Cincinnati platform, which affirms that Congress cannot charter a national bank, in the teeth of that old standing decision that Congress can charter a bank. And I remind him of another piece of history on the ques- tion of respect for judicial decisions, and it is a piece of Illinois his- tory, belonging to a time when a large party to which Judge Doug- las belonged were displeased with a decision of the Supreme Court of Illinois. ... I know that Judge Douglas will not deny that he PERSUASION AND BELIEF 303 was then in favor of overslaughing that decision by the mode of adding five new judges, so as to vote down the four old ones. Not only so, but it ended in the Judge's sitting down on the very bench as one of the five new judges to break down the four old ones. It was in this way precisely that he got his title of judge. Now, when the Judge tells me that men appointed conditionally to sit as mem- bers of a court will have to be catechized beforehand upon some subject, I say, *You know, Judge, you have tried it!'" Intercollegiate debaters have an overworked trick of quoting as authority the president or other prominent faculty member of the institution their opponents represent, with an air which seems to say, "You cannot go back on that!" The shallow trick was neatly exposed by a Pennsylvania debater in a contest with a Cbrnell team. The Cornell debaters had quoted with gusto several times Dean William Draper Lewis of the College of Law in the Univer- sity of Pennsylvania, in favor of the popular review of judicial decisions. The Pennsylvania leader finally replied : "We have great respect for Dean Lewis and for his opinions on questions of law; but we do not feel bound to accept his authority as final on any question whatever. *If this be treason, make the most of it !' " When confronted with authorities not very imposing in the eyes of your audience, the case is less difficult. They may be ignored at times. The problem is to judge whether they have made impression enough to be worth your time, or the risk of giving them importance through an attack. The methods of attack in general should be apparent enough from the questions above. If some man is put forward as authority who is not well known and whose claim to be an authority is not well supported, the simple question, Who is this Smith? may suffice to destroy the effect of his statements; or one may proceed at once to show how little grounds there are for making Smith an authority. Unless you know his pretensions are flimsy, however, you run the risk of an effective rejoinder in his support, and your question will have emphasized his importance. The question of prejudice should be especially noticed. The intimation that an authority is biased is so destruc- tive to his influence, that the charge is often made with- S04 PUBLIC SPEAKING out good reason. But the fact that the charge of bias is made unscrupulously should not deter us in a clear case from questioning an authority on this ground. If Macau- lay were quoted on a question of English history, a ques- tion disputed by Whigs and Tories, it would be fair to use the statement quoted above from President Wilson in regard to Macaulay 's Whig bias. On partizan questions any politician 's statements are open to attack. What means of overcoming authority have been used in the fol- lowing : letter from 'H. L.* in your columns on April 20 quotes a state- ment from a few English i)hysicians as to the benefits of alcoholic liquors both as medicine and as beverage. This statement is said by H. L. to have appeared in the Lancet 're sired mood, so that they may be willing to listen, and we know well the power of well used humor in making a point stick." A moderate use of humor is not at all inconsistent with a serious purpose. All depends upon how it is used. As a rule, the students in my classes are much too solemn, and a joke is so unusual that often when one is attempted by a student speaker, his classmates blink solemnly without recognizing it; for a joke, you must know, is most appreciated when it is expected. One hardly knows what to make of Senator Beveridge's state- ments that, "To find a joke in Webster would be an offense. . . . ^ Lincoln's Gettysburg address, his first and second inaugurals, his speech beginning the Douglas campaign and his Cooper Union ad- dress in New York are, perhaps, the only utterances of his that I will endure. Yet this greatest of story tellers since ^sop did not adorn or deface one of these great deliverances with a story or any j form of humor." It is true the reports of Webster's speeches are annotated with "Cheers" and "Great applause," and that you will look long for "Ljaughter," but you will find that. There is in a speech of his at Rochester much ponderous jesting about the high falls of the Genesee River. But turn to the speech generally called Webster's greatest, and by some the greatest speech of all time, ' the Reply to Hayne. No speech in our history has had a more seri- ous occasion or purpose ; yet it begins humorously, and contains I several humorous passages. These are grim jokes, to be sure, but ' still they are plainly marked as jokes, and no doubt were intended to relieve somewhat the unavoidable grimness of the situation. One is glad to have stress laid on the fact that Lincoln's speeches are serious and free from the clownishness sometimes attributed to him. One will find many places in the debates with Douglas where Lincoln has made humor effective for his argument, though no places where he has yielded to the temptation to be funny for the 1 Reed's Modern Eloquence, Introduction to Vol. XII. S14 PUBLIC SPEAKING sake of the laugh only. There are very few stories and those briefly put. Of course, in his inaugurals and at Gettysburg humor would have been as much out of place as in a psalm. But look at the other speeches mentioned. One cannot doubt that Lincoln's audi- ence was moved to laughter more than once during his Springfield speech. The Cooper Union speech has already been cited. Throughout his very serious argument that the fathers were not Douglas Demo- crats there runs a vein of humor, a sort of unexpressed chuckle over the dilemma into which he is placing his opponent. One will look long to find a better example of wit employed to destroy a some- what slippery fallacy, than this from the Cooper Union speech : "But you will not abide the election of a Republican president ! In that supposed event, you say, you will destroy the Union; and then, you say, the great crime of having destroyed it w^ill be upon us ! That is cool. A highwayman holds a pistol to my ear, and mutters through his teeth, *Stand and deliver, or I shall kill you. and then you will be a murderer.' " The authoritativeness of a speaker is affected also by his per- sonal qualities, which will be treated below. These will be treated, however, not only as affecting authoritativeness, but more broadly as affecting directly persuasiveness. These and other qualities also enter into moral character, but a few words may be said in general upon — Moral character and the speaker's influence. Many writers upon the influence of speakers over audiences have emphasized simple goodness. The old Roman Quintilian, who taught oratory in the first century, said, ^'An orator is a good man skilled in speaking." It is readily seen that a man of notoriously bad life cannot be an effective preacher of righteousness, though he plead like an angel of light. Nor can the man who sets up standards of morality widely differing from the prevail- ing standards, plead effectively for any cause, though it may have little relation to his manner of living. Nevertheless, we must take exception to Quintilian 's ' ' good man, ' ^ as certain successful orators come to mind ; or, indeed, to any sweeping statement of the sort. Hon- esty compels us to acknowledge that many men not good | PERSUASION AND BELIEF 315 have been very successful speakers, even orators. Much seems to depend upon the particular vices charged. A reputation for trickery, cruelty, or treachery to women ^ is usually destructive of popular influence ; but the repu- tation for hard drinking and carelessness in regard to debts which ''the great Daniel Webster" bore (very un- justly in both respects, we are told), did not destroy an influence which it is an inspiration to study, nor prevent his words being read and pondered, almost as was the Bible, beside thousands of Northern hearthstones. Bet- ter than Quintilian's saying, I like Emerson's words, ''If I should make the shortest list of the qualifications of the orator, I should begin with manliness," and Beecher's pithy dictum, "Let no sneak try to be an orator." How- ever much the orator lacks of goodness, he will rarely be found weak. The orator is a leader, and weaklings do not lead. Personality. There is an element in the power of a speaker, sometimes called "personal magnetism," some- times "personality," which can be recognized rather than directly cultivated. Why Alcibiades, Mirabeau, Webster, Clay; or, in other fields, Mahomet, Napoleon, Luther, Brigham Young, and Stonewall Jackson, exer- cised the fascination they did over men, has been ex- plained in many ways. (Read, if you like, the chapter on Personality in Ross's Social Control) No explana- tion will entirely satisfy. It is said that the art of fasci- nating audiences can be taught by mail. I will leave it to mail courses, except as this strange power is com- pounded of the elements of character and methods which we treat under other headings. Make as much of a mystery of "magnetism" as we please, it probably consists only of an unusual combina- J Cf. Bryce, American Commonwealth, II, p. 217. 316 PUBLIC SPEAKING tion of quite understandable characteristics. Great lead ers have been men of imagination, able to stir the imag- ination of their followers. They have had an under- standing of human nature and a sympathy which have enabled them to adapt themselves to the view-points and experiences of others, to touch the right motives and arouse the right associations in their minds. They have been men of strength and positiveness of character, know- ing precisely what they wished to bring about, and very determined to succeed. Personal appearance is an element in personality^. Great stature is no doubt an advantage; but Webster, *Hhe godlike Daniel," who was often spoken of as a giant, was of only moderate height, and Stephen A. Douglas, a leader of rare influence, whether before the people or in the Senate, w^as called ''the Little Giant," and was less than five feet in height. Since we cannot by taking thought add to our stature, discussion of height is not of importance, except as it gives opportunity to say to those who lack height : Do not worry about the lack, and do not try to increase your height by ^'standing on your dignity"; in other words do not call attention to your lack by a strut. Real dignity of bearing can, however, be developed by slow degrees, by the development of cour- tesy and self-respect, supplemented by the physical train- ing described elsewhere. In brief, let us try to be sin- cere, straightforward, self-controlled gentlemen on the platform, and let personality take care of itself. We may add a word from Emerson ^ which touches an important matter to some extent within our control: /^Perhaps it is the lowest of the qualities of an orator, but it is, on so many occasions, of chief importance, — a certain robust and radiant physical health. ' ' 1 Essay on Eloquence. PERSUASION AND BELIEF S17 W'f should not be discouraged by the discovery that we are not "grest personalities." Of course some of us will never sway audi- ences at will, but we can make the most of such gifts as we have. *'Tho race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." I, in common with every teacher, have seen sadly handicapped young men surpass their more gifted classmates. Fairness. Nothing more certainly induces a fair, open- v minded attitude on the part of an audience than fair- ness on the part of the speaker. We have already seen the good effect of concessions in finding common ground. Fairness should be shown both in the presentation of one's own views and in discussing the views of an oppo- nent. The persuader is an advocate. He is expected to state his side as strongly as truth permits; but his audience has a right to expect him to state facts truly and to refrain from sophistry. To be an advocate does not give one a right to be other than fair and honest. To be fair is not only right, but profitable in the long run. Juries trusted ''Honest Abe'' Lincoln. Contrast the effect of that name with that of a name for shrewd- ness and pettifogging. To have one's tricks exposed is to become discredited. In order to be fair, first be^jxasonable. L(}ok at the case of the opposition, instead of shutting your mind to it. Do not, like a schoolboy debater, claim everything for your side; but recognize, at least tacitly, that there is truth on the other side. Remember that we are con- sidering the winning of those not yet in agreement. Nothing marks more plainly the difference between the mature and the immature debater than the intolerance of the latter. Courtesy. Any exhibition of boorishness upon the ; platform will tend to decrease the sympathy of an audi- ence for the speaker; w^hile the speaker who is courteous may say hard, stern things with impunity. Cutting, sar- 318 PUBLIC SPEAKING castic remarks may sometimes be justified, but n e rarely persuasive. They chill good feeling. Ba(. te» r'^r should not be mistaken for righteous indignati vective is for the rarest occasions. It would b< u ud rule never to say on the platform anything de >ira cry of an opponent which you would not say if y e alone with him; but one should refrain from th( ri- alities which might be proper enough in e. Schoolboys in debate often offend good taste seriously by aiming at each other remarks which pass as humor in everyday intercourse, but which on the platform seem mere insolence. Do not mistake a laugh cheaply won by blackguardism for genuine approval. Your audience especially deserves courtesy. It has paid you a compliment in giving you its time. The point needing most emphasis under this head is, that you should not trespass upon the time of your hearers be- yond the period allotted to you, either by those in charge of the meeting, or by common understanding. Courtesy does not demand cheap, insincere compli- ments to audience or community. A gracious compli- ment which is sincere and merited is welcome anywhere ; but no intelligent audience is likely to be won by the strained flattery with which some speakers seek good will. We may applaud perfunctorily, as in duty bound ; but applause accompanied by knowing looks and the nudging of neighbors is not evidence of persuasive effect. Eespect for audiences. Courtesy should not be merely assumed, but should rest upon fairness of spirit and also genuine respect for one's audience. Some over-confident young men need to consider this with care. The hum- blest audience deserves respect. However humble their individual members, in the aggregate they constitute a body to whom respect is due. Do not waste their time ; PERSUASION AND BELIEF 319 give them a fair equivalent. The best way to sho^ courtesy and respect to an audience is to prepare well and give them your best. Your audience may be slow ; it is likely to be if not made up of trained thinkers. Any audience may be slower than a beginner thinks it should be, for it has not thought through his subject in most cases; but he should not mistake slowness for stu- pidity, or small schooling for ignorance. It would be affectation to ignore the fact that some audiences do not represent a high level of culture and information ; yet rarely indeed will an audience be found which does not contain a goodly number of members who have solid wisdom and keen ability to see through fallacies, though they may not be able to express them- selves. It is never safe to assume that all the members of an audience are uninformed on any subject. Being asked to speak in a small country church on my observa- tions of New York's East Side during a residence of ten weeks in a college settlement, I comforted myself with the thought that I at least knew more of tenement life than any of my hearers. After my talk I learned that two persons in the audience had actually lived in the tenements, and that one lady had worked with immi- grants both at Ellis Island and in a settlement. She said I was quite well informed considering my limited opportunity for ob- servation ! It is difficult to tell the truth about audiences in cold print, without giving the essentially false impression that they may be freely manipulated without respect to their mental powers. It is true that men in general are not thinkers, in the strict sense of the term, that they may be controlled at times by suggestion and through their emotions, and that they have strong prejudices. It is true that at times they are controlled by dema- gogues, that they are subject to panics, and form mobs. Still, though much under the influence of emotion, their S20 PUBLIC SPEAKING emotions are often true guides; and though sometimes controlled by prejudices and inherited opinions, these are after all the results of the experience of the race and not altogether bad standards of conduct. And it is wholesome to reflect that very rarely has the speaker oc- casion to feel himself superior to his hearers. Nothing could be better for the young speaker to fix in his mem- ory than the saying of that great popular leader, Lin- coln, spoken out of rich experience: '^I always assume that my audience is in many things w^iser than I am, and I say the most sensible things I can to them. I never found that they did not understand me.'' Edward Everett Hale told a group of students that they should remember that the least educated man in an audience can conceive of a better speech than the speaker can make. We might add that this least educated man, in the great majority of cases, has heard better speeches than the speaker can make. Fjew could speak with more authority on this subject than James Bryce. He says, in his chapter on the Nature of Public Opinion,i that nineteen out of twenty persons do not think out for themselves public questions. But he adds : "It is not that these nineteen persons are incapable of appreciat- ing good arguments, or unwilling to receive them. On the con- trary, and this is especially true of the working classes, an audience is pleased when solid arguments are addressed to it. . . . . . . *'The chief difference between the so-called upper, or wealthier, and the humbler strata of society is, that the former are less influenced by sentiment and possibly more influenced by notions, Often erroneous, of their own interest. . . . *''The apparent paradox that where the humbler classes have dif- fered in opinion from the higher, they have often been proved by the event to have been right and their so-called betters wrong (a fact sufficiently illustrated by the experience of many European countries during the last half-century), may perhaps be explained by considering that the historical and scientific d:ila on which the solution of a dilFicult political problem depends are really just as little known to the wealthy as to the poor. Ordinary education, 1 American Commonwealth, IT, p. 250. This work, especially the second volume, is recommended to the student who wishes a clear- eyed view of American opinion and feeling. PERSUASION AND BELIEF S21 even the sort of education which is represented by a university de- gree, does not nt a man to handle these questions, and it sometimes tills him with a vain conceit of his own competence which closes his mind to argument and to the accumulating evidence of facts. Edu- cation, ought, no doubt, to enlighten a man ; but the educated classes, speaking generally, are the property-holding classes and the pos- session of property does more to make a man timid than education does to make him hopeful. He is apt to underrate the power as well as the worth of sentiment ; he over-values the restraints which existing institutions impose, he has a faint appreciation of the cura- tive power of freedom, and of the tendency which brings things right when men have been left to their own devices, and have learnt from failure how to attain success. In the less-educated man a certain simplicity and openness of mind go some way to compen- sate for the lack of knowledge. He is more apt to be influenced by the authority of leaders; but as, at least in England and Amer- ica, he is generally shrewd enough to discern between a great man and a demagogue, this is more a gain than a loss." There have been few stronger speakers in America in recent years, either in the Senate or on the stump, than Senator Jonathan P. Doliiver. He declared i "that whoever would deal with the mod- ern American mass-meeting must put into the preparation of his speech time and labor without stint or grudging." He said further : ''The stump has been the last field of oratory to submit to the ex- actions of toil and care and unremitting attention to details. This has been partly the fault of the public, which has allowed itself to be imposed upon by patiently receiving all sorts and conditions of speeches. The schoolhouse and the newspapers have gone far to restore even the remote rural districts to their natural rights in these matters. Charles James Fox once said that however humble his audience he always felt it was his duty to do his best. That course was a good thing for the audience and undoubtedly a good thing for the orator, for in no art is it ever safe for a man to fall below the best that is in him. "The time has come in the United States when no community is so remote that it does not demand a high order of public speak- ing. . . . The stump speaker of to-day has a good many competi- tors, and it behooves him to bring his audience fresh knowledge, or at least the old, familiar knowledge dressed up so that its friends will be glad to renew its acquaintance. . . . "The democracy of England and America is no fierce mob bewil- dered by the babble of tongues or the scribble of pens." Do not, above all things, try to patronize or ''talk down" To any audience. Beware of the wheedling cir- cumflexed tones which imply, ''Now, my dear good peo- ple, living far from the busy haunts of men, it must be a real treat to have me come and enlighten your igno- 1 Saturday Eventing Post, May 25, 1901, p. 7. 322 PUBLIC SPEAKING ranee." You did not, years ago, enjoy speeches such as Mark Twain puts into the mouth of the Sunday School superintendent in Tom Sawyer: ''Now, children, I want you all to sit just as straight and pretty as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There — that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. ... I want to tell you how good it makes me feel to see so many bright clean little faces assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good. ..." You should use words not unfamiliar, but this does not require bad or childish English. The Bible is a model of pure English, but its language is plain to the simplest man. Professor Austin Phelps has well said : ^ ''The common people like to be addressed in sound old English which has the centuries behind it. They desire it to be plain, direct, strong, racy, but they never as a body desire it to be low. ... A rabble in the street will often hoot if they are addressed in bad grammar. Patrick Henry sought to win the favor of the backwoods- men of Virginia by imitating their colloquial dialect, of which his biographer gives the following specimen from one of his speeches, 'AH the larnin upon the yairth are not to be compared with naiteral pairts.' But his hear- ers, backwoodsmen though they were, knew better than that ; and they knew that a statesman of the Old Domin- ion ought to speak good English. They were his severest critics. The common people know good English when they hear it ; they understand it ; men crave it who never use it. In their unconscious criticism of a speaker, his right to their heading depends on his ability to say some- thing worth their hearing ; and one of the first evidences they look for of that ability is that he speaks better Eng- lish than they do. ' ' 1 Phelps and Frink, Rhetoric, p. 17. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 323 And, mind you, respect for audiences must be felt. Do not doubt that we reveal in our speeches many things we would not, and perhaps are unconscious of, — peevishness, egotism, weakness, contempt. The snob will show himself in his speech as well as the hypocrite. Modesty. We like a speaker who knows his own mihL3r'an3rspeaks with the note of strong conviction, but we resent any touch of strut or bullying. Franklin, in criticizing one of the appeals of the American colonies to the king for a redress of grievances, advised a more manly style. Said he, 'Firmness carries weight : a strut never does.' When we detect the 'strut' in discourse, we are instinctively aroused to cavil and criticize. ' ' ^ There are men who make excellent arguments, yet feel- ing, perhaps justly, their superiority as thinkers, they let a note creep into their voices which says, ''Now is n't that clever?" and, "Haven't I shown you how foolish you are ? ' ' and this awakens a rebellion in their hearers. It is hard for such men to be ' ^ convincing speakers whom one does not resent. ' ' Do not make a parade of knowledge. Usually an audi- ence is glad to be informed, and is willing to acknowl- edge any advantages their speaker may possess over them; but they are quick to resent any suggestion of showing off. "He thinks he knows it all," is often heard. The young college man, however modest, is likely to be under suspicion in this respect. Modesty does not require apologies for one 's unworthi- ness to speak to one's audience, or upon the subject chosen. There are times when apologies are due, per- haps, but occasion for them should be avoided when pos- sible. Apologies for lack of preparation are especially objectionable. If an audience forces one to speak with- 1 Phelps and Frink, Rhetoric^ p. 195. 324 PUBLIC SPEAKING out opportunity for preparation, no apologies are due, though one might wish to make an explanation in self- defense. Apologies under other circumstances are often equivalent to telling the audience that they have not been considered worth effort. Worst of all, apology for lack of preparation is often only a way of bragging : the speaker seems to say, ''See what I can do without half trying; just imagine what I might do if I should really try ! ' ' Much of this apologizing comes from the foolish desire to give the impression that one is speaking im- promptu. Never make an apology that is not sincere. A young man called upon to address the veterans of the Civil War, might sincerely wish to compare his inexperience with their experience. It would not be an apology, but a way of paying a compliment to his hearers. When Robert Ingersoll began a lecture on Shakespeare by say- ing he felt like a man trying to bear up an enormous globe which quite exceeded his grasp, it was only a way of expressing his sense of the greatness of Shakespeare. In general, one should not attempt a theme he is not qualified to speak upon before the given audience. In any case, having accepted the ][nvitation, he should give such time to preparation as he can, and then no apology is needed. There is a conflict of opinion between those who believe that a speaker should speak with the utmost self-confidence and those who hold for a more modest attitude. Senator Beveridge says very positively : i ''Not one immortal utterance can be produced which contains such expressions as, 'I may be wrong,' or, 'In my humble judg- ment,' or, 'In my judgment.' The great speakers, in their higliest moments, have always been so charged with aggressive convictions that they announce their conclusions as ultimate truths. They speak 'as one having authority,' and therefore, 'the common people hear them gladly.' " 1 Keed's Modern Eloquence, Introduction to Vol, XII. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 325 However true this may be of "great speakers, in their highest moments," one is not always delivering "immortal utterances." Certainly Lincoln was a great leader, yet he often spoke with hu- mility, calling himself ''a humble man," and taking the utmost pains to explain his conclusions. He was always respectful of the opin- ions of othei*s ; and even when President, and when delivering his addresses which Senator Beveridge says will live, he never spoke in an aggressive ex-cathedra manner. Read the Gettysburg Ad- dress and the two inaugural addresses. He speaks with unassum- ing dignity, as the President, but as one who rather minimizes than magnifies his authority. There is not the voice of command, but that of a father to his elder children. I will quote again from wise old Benjamin Franklin, who knew how to manage men. He tells us in his Autohiography, that he as a youth practised the Socratic method of argument, much to the dis- comfiture of others. "I practised this method for some years, but gradually left it, re- taining only the habit of expressing myself in terms of modest dif- fidence, never using when I advance anything that may possibly be disputed, the words certainly, undoubtedly . . . ; but rather say, / conceive, or apprehend, a thing to be so and so : It appears to me, or / should not think it so and so, for such and such reasons; or / imagine it to he so; or It is so, if I am not mistaken. This habit, I believe, has been of great advantage to me when I have had occasion to inculcate my opinions and persuade men into measures that I have been from time to time engaged in promoting. ... I wish well-meaning and sensible men would not lessen their power of doing good by a positive assuming manner, that seldom fails to disgust, tends to create opposition, and to defeat most of those pur- poses for which speech was given us." Following Franklin's policy, we should not attempt to lay down any positive rule on this matter. Much depends upon the situation. In leading a great mass of men, who are more or less suggestible and largely in harmony with the speaker, the positive assertion may be best ; but in winning over thinking men Franklin's way is usually better. Much depends also upOn the speaker. Most of us had best leave the hurling of thunderbolts to the Luthers and Mirabeaus. Modesty, like other personal characteristics, is a mat- ter of delivery as well as of composition. I recall a student who was ' ' drilling ' ' a speech on war. His man- ner implied strongly that his audience was very wrong in their militaristic leanings and that he was, rather re- bukingly, setting them right. He admitted that this was his feeling. But after several critics had objected, 326 PUBLIC SPEAKING he was brought to see that he was a very young man, talking to many presumably wiser in general; and that it was more becoming to him to submit his ideas for our consideration, vigorously and self -respectfully, but yet modestly. He had a notable success; yet he did not change a word of his speech. Self-respect. If the circumflexed tones of condescen- sion are objectionable, even less persuasive are the cir- cumflexes of one who holds himself too cheaply. No audience will give respectful attention to one who does not respect himself. It will scorn the man who lacks the courage of his own convictions, and who seems to be begging his audience to tolerate him and his ideas. One may be sure that such an attitude did not go with Frank- lin 's modest phrases. No suggestion regarding modesty, courtesy or tact, should be taken to mean that a speaker should fawn upon his audience. An audience respects manliness above all things, and has far more regard for a good fighter than for a devotee of ''soft soap." Beecher, in his lecture on Oratory, speaks of throwing a sop to the Cerberus of envy, prejudice and jealousy which guards the gate to men's minds; but no one who knows his career, and especially knows his speech in Liverpool in 1863, which has become the standard ex- ample of a manful, yet tactful fight with a hostile audi- ence, will think that he meant any unmanly fawning. Self-respect demands, too, that although the speaker must reveal himself frankly, he must not become unduly familiar or sacrifice his personal dignity. I recall hear- ing a candidate who was running for the office of Secre- tary of State in California, making a stump speech in his college town. Unfortunately his reputation lingered and the audience began calling for one of his old ''stunts.'' He was reluctant, but finally gave us a song PERSUASION AND BELIEF 527 and dance. The crowd enjoyed the act, but I doubt if a single applauder felt that this was the man to be elected to a high office. I am glad to believe that there is no reason why one, from the low standpoint of expediency, should sacrifice his self-respect and dignity before the American electorate. A certain wealthy and dandified young man in a New York state district became a candi- date for Congress. He put aside his fine raiment and went among the farmers in a scare-crow costume. Outraged by this affront to their intelligence, they *'snowed him under'* at the polls. By the way, how should he have dressed? Good humor. Better than humor is good humor, which enables us to meet all sorts of situations, however strained or awkward, with a smile. Good humor is a foil for the most dangerous attacks of an opponent, and is the surest means of winning over a hostile audience. Good humor, too, is consistent with dignity and seriousness of purpose. Besides, though many of us can never succeed as wits, we can all cultivate good humor. And it needs cultivation, for geniality is rather generally lacking in young speakers. How much more effective than a tart tu quoque, or you *re an- other, was Lowell's whimsical way of reminding the British that they had the quality they criticized in us. (See p. 310.) The worst thing a speaker can do ordinarily is to show anger. It is a favorite trick of debaters and advocates to drive an opponent into a display of wrath. This not only destroys his authority with the audience, but is likely to cause him to make damaging, absurd or conflict- ing statements. There is great force in righteous indig- nation when a strong man, for a proper cause, boils over with wrath ; but do not have a low boiling point. Interruptions from the floor try the temper of the stump speaker; but if he keeps good natured he can 328 PUBLIC SPEAKING usually be sure of having the sympathy of the audience, who will not demand a very high grade of answer. If he loses his temper he will usually find himself in their bad graces. Lincoln in the debates with Douglas came, as was natural undei* the long strain, to some pretty sharp encounters with his able and audacious antagonist ; but never was his good nature destroyed, though he was sorely tried and we find him saying in the Ottawa debate, "It is fortunate for me that I can keep as good-humored as I do, when the judge acknowledges he has been trying to make a question of veracity with me." When he finds it necessary to rebuke Douglas for misrepresenting his views on the proper position of the negro, he does so in a way which is good-humored, but at the same time makes the Judge understand that Lincoln is not all meek- ness : "Anything that argues me into his idea of perfect social and political equality with the negro is but a specious and fantastic arrangement of words, by which a man can prove a horse-chestnut to be a chestnut horse." When he is interrupted by a rowdy with "Put on your specs," in allusion to his difficulty in reading, he replies simply, "Yes, sir, I am obliged to do so; I am no longer a young man." Manifestly good humor is helpful in maintaining fair- ness, courtesy, and self-control. Self-control. It is a truism that ''To be a master of a situation a man must first be master of himself." We instinctively turn for guidance to men of poise, who are not only unruffled under provocation, but also calm in a crisis; not, however, to the man who is cool from indif- ference, but to the man who under strong feeling yet remains master of his powers. Such a man on the platform will be able to speak with an authority never granted to one whose control is easily destroyed. He will also be able to think of the right thing to say when it should be said, not next day ; and to judge the mood of his audience, whether assenting or resisting, and in ^very way to adapt himself to the situation. Sympathy. Whatever a speaker's purpose he needs PERSUASION AND BELIEF S29 sympathy, in order that he may understand what his hearers are interested in, what motives move them, what beliefs and prejudices they have. Not only must the speaker understand human nature, he should have a fel- low feeling for those whom he addresses. And not only should he have this feeling, but he should be able to mani- fest it, to seem a friendly man, interested in those he addresses. To be sympathetic, to put one's self in the other fellow's place, one needs imagination. We recall, in this con- nection, that imagination must have material with which to work; and this gives opportunity to emphasize again the advantage of wide experience and wide knowledge of many kinds of men. And, having material, the speaker in his preparation should definitely exercise imagination upon it, in order to realize the situation and the feelings of those to be addressed. Tact. The speaker who is fair, reasonable, courteous and modest, who has a sense of humor and maintains good humor, and who, above all, is sympathetic, will prob- ably have tact, — ^'the ability to do or say the right thing at the right moment, or better, to avoid doing or saying the wrong thing." Tact seems to be a gift granted to some and denied to others, but the worst blunderer should I be able to improve. The way to go about it is to study , other people and cultivate consideration for their feel- I ings. One cannot be tactful by rule, and a manifest effort to be tactful is not tactful. There must be a sym- , pathetic understanding. Much of the preceding discus- sion of persuasion might be placed under the heading of I tact, but a few special suggestions may be helpful. I Sympathetic understanding is more than just being kindly disposed toward others. We all know people as inept as the Newfoundland puppy who shows his affec- 330 PUBLIC SPEAKING tion by planting his muddy paws on his master's dress clothes. Tact involves both good feeling and under- standing. We all know people who call general attention to one's defects and failures, who heap moral precepts upon us when we are merry or angry ; who try to soothe us as angry children when we think we are filled with righteous indignation; who insist on rehearsing their successes when we are sore over defeats ; who put us in the wrong without leaving an opening for our wounded pride to es- cape; who come fairly oozing pity for our ignorance and desire to set us right, and proceed to tell us what we should be fools not to know. Then there is the student who comes in to say, "Professor, I have got to be excused to-day," or *'I must pass this course" ; or to say that the work for which he was conditioned was unessential ; or that he is being *'held up on a technicality" ; or perhaps, very kindly, *'I find this paragraph of yours rather muddy." Now, one who does not realize that these things are tactless and that such remarks make it hard for one with the best of intentions to keep exclusive attention upon the matter in hand, who cannot feel, for instance, the difference between the remark last quoted and, "I do not understand this paragraph," should surely give much attention to his tactfulness. ..^-^Be careful of convicting your audience of ignorance. 'A student speaker began : believe many are ignorant of what forestry really is, and I wish to tell you." The statement was correct but unnecessary, prompting the re- action : ' * Well, let 's see if you know so much. ' ' Another student speaking of the campus provoked the question. Don't you think we have seen the campus?'' He was right in assuming that we had not really seen the campuSj with eyes open to its beauties; but a tactful speakei; would have reminded us of things half seen, rather thar told of them as new. A young man talking to Civil Wai veterans, would do well in presenting facts outside their range of information, to ascribe them to his authority preferably one of their generation; or he may tell o: newly discovered evidence. PERSUASION AND BELIEF SSI I do not mean that a speaker need hesitate to give information needed, and to do so in the most direct way, in most eases ; but he should avoid humiliating his hear- ers. Student speakers should give this matter some at- tention, for they do not always distinguish between preparing a speech and preparing a report in economics, in which they naturally wish to appear as wise as possible. Do not^ put your audience hopelessly in the wrong. You know the man who in an argument is crammed full of facts and authorities, has an appalling memory, de- molishes your every point with relentless logic, leaving you not a leg to stand on and triumphantly forcing you to yield, — but no, you refuse to surrender. You take refuge in some side issue, you refuse to accept his authorities or believe his statements; you turn to such personalities as, *'Well, if you know so much," or, ''Of course we are all fools and knaves'' ; you do many things you are ashamed of rather than acknowledge his triumph. If he would generously acknowledge your correctness so far as you are correct, and acknowledge the justice of your viewpoints and feelings, you would promptly yield. The speaker's business will sometimes be to prove that the majority of his audience are in the wrong, but he need not insist that they are altogether wrong. They will not be on any debatable question, and many of their errors are of no account anyway. Sometimes one may ignore their errors and tacitly assume that they hold correct views. In any case, one should not make his attack more personal than is necessary, and foreclose the whole case by treating all who differ as fools, bigots, or knaves. ''I am sorry for such a narrow-minded person," said a young speaker, referring to any one who held the opposite view. I recall a speech upon the ''popular review of judicial decisions," which implied B32 PUBLIC SPEAKING that all who favored the plan were rascals intent upon wrecking the courts and our whole governmental system. After I had convinced this speaker that the advocates of the plan were patriotic men, he came back with a speech which acknowledged that they might mean well, but implied that they were very silly. As between being called a fool or a knave most of us would prefer the latter epithet But epithets are not necessary; certainly not for one 's audience. Consider the case of a young man, just out of college, addressing elderly people and expressing contempt for their ideas and customs ; referring to the religious ideas to which they were trained as old fogyism, and exhibiting pride in his own advanced ideas. *'All that is overthrown," he says ; "Professor Conclusions has provea, etc. Nobody believes that w^ay now.'' None but a boor would talk that way, do you say? I have heard young men, ordinarily courte- ous, talking that way. No one is so illiberal toward the views of others as your young liberal. Must one pass over the errors of his hearers ? Not at , all. Prove them wrong. Bring the facts and the argu- ments and prove their beliefs wrong. But don't triumpi over them too much; let them acknowledge they arc wrong. Don 't ' ^ rub it in. ' ' There is generous admission implied in this statement of a mia Bionary to a Confucian, which makes the advice more palatable 1 "You need the power of Christ to enable you to obey Confucius." A hint may be taken from an article entitled. Cleaning up th^ American City : How Mrs. Caroline Bartlett does it.i Mrs. Bart- lett went to Montgomery to make a *'survoy." She did her work, and then called a meeting, to which came city officials, dairymen, bakers and others quick to resent criticisms, especially from an out- mder. "Tactfully she put her compliments first, — the gratified citi- zens learned that their water supply was excellent, their sewer sy» tern and street cleaning work good, the refuse collection exceptional They beamed as they were congratulated upon the remarkably gooc work done by their health officials. . . . Then they listened coura« geously while the speaker revealed the conditions in the bakeries, some of the schoolhouses, and the city jail. There was great ex* 1 American Magazine, September, 1913. < PERSUASION AND BELIEF 223 citement after Mrs. Bartlett left, but the officials and the women's clubs went to work in accordance with her advice." Do not unnecessarily stir up prejudices. A speaker must often boldly face prejudices ; but there is no good reason for stirring these up unnecessarily, and especially those not involved in the issuer On the Saturday preceding the election of 1884, Dr. Burchard made a speech for Blaine in New York City, in which he declared, "Democracy stands for Rum, Romanism and Rebellion." Within an hour it was spread over the city, by means of chalk, placard and newspaper, that a Republican speaker had attacked the Roman Catholic Church. Blaine, whose own wife was a Roman Catholic, dared make no statement, fearing Protestant prejudice. Cleveland carried New York State and with it the presidency, by only eleven hundred votes, and many think Blaine's defeat was due to this un- guarded sentence of his advocate. No better speech for the study of tact will be found than Booker T. Washington's address at the Atlanta Exposition. This will be found, with the enthusiastic comments of Southern white men, in Washington's Up from Slavery, which contains also many wise ob- servations on speech-making, and especially on tactful adaptation to the audience. The speech, with an account of the occasion and its success, will also be found in Baker's Forms of PuMic Address, See also in the same text, Phillips Brooks's speech on the Fourth of July delivered in Westminster Abbey. Do not put every suggestion on the plane of duty. There is surely occasion for preaching, for exhortation to duty ; yet we do well to limit this so far as we can without sacrificing definiteness of suggestion. One becomes in- different to duties when he is told of them too constantly ; as here in this college world, that it is one 's duty to sup- port every conceivable activity, to cultivate the acquaint- ance of all sorts of men, to saturate one's self with music, to read good books every available fifteen minutes, to attend the special lectures, to live, in short, an im- possibly strenuous life. One wonders why duty is the only motive appealed to, and why nothing is presented as a pleasure or an advantage. PUBLIC SPEAKING A speaker wishing to secure support for the children's gardens movement, began with our duty to the poor. Had he interested us in the children and the work that has been accomplished, his plea would have been more effective ; we might have wished to help, or even offered to help. A speaker, earnestly wishing to induce a group of students to interest themselves in the lonesome, detached members of the community, began with a vigorous denunciation of the gen- eral indifference. He improved his speech much by first setting be- fore us the situation, winning our sympathy by specific examples. We recognize that much depends npon the relation of a speaker to his audience. In the case just mentioned, a student speaking to students on student duty would be less likely to provoke a resisting spirit than would a member of the faculty. Sometimes a position of author- ity enables one to urge duty more acceptably ; sometimes less acceptably. We are more willing to take preaching from a preacher than from one without special license to urge duties upon us. We take it more kindly from the old than from the young. A speaker accepted by an audience as a friend or a trusted counselor can venture to give advice that would be resented coming from another. Yet tlie man of age and position is apt to speak with deference. A well developed sense ' ' of the general fitness of things" is a great asset to the speaker. Roosevelt's African and European Addresses furnishes a basis for an interesting study of tact, especially the speech before the Na- tional University at Cairo and the address at the Guildhall in Lon- don, in both of which he attempts, with apparent success, to advise other peoples how to manage their affairs. It is folly to lay down precise rules. At times the most direct announcement possible or the most direct exhortation is best. We do not like manifest ^'beating about the bush." If a student speaker has as his purpose to raise money for an unfortunate fellow student, which will be more effective with you : to announce his purpose at once, or after describing the case? How will the occasion affect the problem? Suppose the occasion to be the banquet of a society to which the unfortunate does not belong? A class in public speaking? A meeting of the class or college to which the unfor- tunate does belong? PERSUASION AND BELIEF SS5 Do not suppose that tact is necessary only when dealing with the especially bigoted. A college faculty is made up of men with more than average training in the open-minded consideration of problems ; yet tact is needed in faculty meetings. Of a certain distinguished professor's speeches in faculty debates, a colleague says : We admired his diction, his logic, his splendid an'ange- ment ; and we had to admit that in his attacks upon certain student activities he was to a great extent right. But he was so tactless that he never won a vote. He spoke as in a vacuum. I have heard X [naming a scientist] say, 'He was often right, but I never voted with him.' " As a result of long contact with scientists and schol- ars, I testify that, outside of their special fields, they reason more calmly, but only a little more calmly, than the ''average man." Tact calls for nice distinctions in the use of allusions and words. We have already noted the effect of unfortu- nate illustrations. Tactlessness is often due to the blun- dering of one of limited vocabulary, or of one who does not feel the difference between expressions; as, for example, between we ought, and you ought, we are wrong and you are wrong, I have proved and I have tried to prove to you. I must confess that, when sitting as a debate judge, the expression, We shall prove absolutely and We have proved to you beyond a doubt, make me scrutinize the arguments with severity. Sincerity. Nothing is sa. fatal to persuasion as the suspfcTon that the speaker is insincere; while sincerity on the part of the speaker prompts an open-minded, sincere attitude on the part of his audience. ^^One has only to examine the great speeches from Demosthenes to Webster to see how earnestly the orators in all parts of their work impressed their sincerity on their audiences ; one has but to consider the wrecked careers among orators to realize that sincerity is„ the chief essential of per- suasion. Without it all else, in the long run, goes for naught. ' ' ^ The commonness of the device, detestable Baker, Principles of Argumentation, p. 302. 336 PUBLIC SPEAKING when dishonest, of charging hypocrisy against an oppo- nent, especially a political opponent, proves the impor- tance of a reputation for sincerity. If it be suspected that a speaker is for sale, ready to use his persuasive powers for any cause for a consideration, either money or position, or that he is advocating a public measure for the sake of his private interests, or that he is driven to one side or the other by pique, as when a man changes his party after failure to secure a nomination, at once his influence wanes. The best way to be believed sincere is to be sincere. This we considered in the chapter on emotion. The best vvay to resist unfair charges of insincerity is, by a course of fair dealing with one 's public, to build up such a repu- tation for sincerity as will of itself refute the charge. It is not often best to discuss one's own sincerity unless one has been attacked on that score; as had Demos- thenes when he delivered his masterpiece. On the Crown, and Webster in the Captain Joseph White case. One may, if he feels it needed, set forth facts to prove his sin- cerity in any case, without specifically raising the issue. A speaker should net permit himself to declare as his belief what he does not believe. Apart from the question of common honesty, he cannot afford to develop the insincerity which is bound to show itself in the tones of his voice and in a hundred subtle ways ; just as it shows in the tones and manner of one who for a consider- able period has sold goods he does not believe in. I have occasionally found among young men a belief that a speaker has some peculiar license to misstate facts and to advocate views he does not hold. This is a most danger- ous doctrine, subversive of all integrity in public speech. Nor is this the view of his audience. They will agree with the fiery words of Demosthenes to ^schines; PERSUASION AND BELIEF 337 What greater crime can an orator be charged with than that his opinions and his language are not the same? Such is found to be your character. And yet you open your mouth and dare to look these men in the face. ' ' A stump" speaker has no more license than others. Certainly he lowers his moral dignity if he permits him- self to be used as a mere mouthpiece. This question of sincerity arises in school and college debating. What is the position of a speaker assigned to the side he does not believe in? In the first place, the audience does not understand from the appearance of a speaker on one side of a school debate that he necessarily believes in that side ; rather that he is stating as well as he can the arguments for that side. There is no decep- tion. Is he then to be condemned, provided he refrains from the conscious use of unsound arguments, misrepresentation of facts, and from declaring personal beliefs which are not genuine? In the second place, very rarely can such a student be said to have a con- viction upon such questions as are debated. He thinks he believes in the affirmative of the resohition, "A minimum wage should be established by law in New York." Put him on the negative and in a week he will wonder how he ever believed in the affinnative. Old or young, few of us have studied such questions enough to have a 7'ight to a conviction upon them. Usually these questions are well balanced ; there are good arguments on both sides. jNIany a student enters these debates with so little conviction that his choice of sides depends upon the first article he chances upon. Or, with the reso- lution instanced, he feels that he is for helping workers generally, but when he studies the subject he may be convinced that a mini- mum wage is not for the good of the workers. I have too often changed these so-called convictions with three minutes of talk, to take them seriously. In the third place, the debater who has looked at but one side of a question is benefited, both as a debater and as a thinker, by being compelled to consider with care the other side. Until he has done this he has no right to a conviction. As a result of considering both sides he may, after the debate is over, arrive at a genuine belief. The method may not be ideal, but it leads students into a study of problems so much more sincere than the study of the average man, and of the average undergraduate, that it must be advocated as a good. The very few who have real convictions in advance can be accommodated. I should hesitate to ask a student to speak against the side he genuinely, believes in, t wen in a school debate ; for the temptations are strong. It must 338 PUBLIC SPEAKING be admitted that student debaters are at times insincere in their debating, just as they are elsewhere. But when Miu Roosevelt con- demns debating, of which he admits he has no direct knowledge, as teaching insincerity, he ought, to be consistent, to stop encourag- ing young men to enter politics, where the temptation to accept and to advocate all of a party platform is far greater and more insidious than the temptations of debating. Is it not well that young men should meet such temptations first under the direction of teachers rather than of bosses? Earnestness- Those who say that sincerity ) chief essential of persuasion must include in tl the idea of earnestness. The two words overlap but do not coincide. A man may be sincere in his indif Earnestness involves seriousness and ardor. Ai . -efice will forgive a speaker almost any lack, if he is mani- festly in earnest about his proposal. If he is not ' ; in earnest, there seems to be small reason why we trouble ourselves; if he seems to care very mucl: is reason to suppose his cause worthy attention. Ei s ness moves our emotions, thaws our indifference, anc us the faith which a leader must create. ^*No oi give faith," says Matthew Arnold, unless he has the persuaded persuade." We like earnestness, even when we smile at its exc Of course, desperate earnestness is not expected ( possible proposals, upon the grading of a street as as upon the removal of a moral nuisance; but whej one attempts persuasion there is expected the degr earnestness befitting the subject. And an audience rarely complain that their speaker is too earnest £ his cause, though they may complain that he takes self too seriously. Of course, we should not con earnestness with mere noise and redness of face ; sljh the other hand, we should not suppress earnestness fear of making a noise or of getting red in the face. PERSUASION AND BELIEF SS9 A cynical habit is bad for a speaker. Sneering or flip- pant speech may amuse for a moment, but it quickly chills an audience. It destroys the sincere, positive, ear- nest tone which rouses and warms. Often, too, he who indulges in cynical speech permits himself to be unfair and to sacrifice truth to smartness. Unfortunately, many, especially in college communities, cultivate the habit of cynical speech, a habit hard to break. Persuasion is not trickery. There are those who feel that consideration of the methods of persuasion is not consistent with sincerity, and who especially complain that when we talk of tactful ways of dealing with an audience, we are following the example of the ancient Sophists, who seem to have conceived of rhetoric as the art of making the worse appear the better reason, of making fallacy plausible, and of leading men against their judgments. There is no doubt that many of the suggestions of this and the preceding chapter, and indeed the whole art of public speaking, may lend themselves to unworthy ends. When Aristotle begins his Rhetoric he recognizes that the art has been prostituted by Sophists to the ends of falsehood and injustice, and makes a de- fense of his undertaking. I quote from Professor J ebb 's summary : Rhetoric is useful, first of all, because truth and jus- tice are naturally stronger than their opposites. When awards are not duly given, truth and justice must have been worsted by their own fault. [That is to say, be- cause they have not been as well represented as false- hood and injustice.] But what if it be urged that this art may be abused? The objection, Aristotle answers, applies to all good things, except virtue, and especially to the most useful things. Men may abuse strength, health, wealth, generalship." 340 PUBLIC SPEAKING This is no academic question to be discussed : philosophic vacuum ; it relates to one of the most prac phases of human life, the influencing of men in loir everyday relations, large and small. We shall do to remind ourselves again that the ethical ques which arise are essentially the same whether we are on or off the platform. On or off, persuasion may be at- tempted by unfair or dishonest means, or for unworthy ends. But no man is entitled to criticize a public speaker for using persuasive skill, for adapting his plea to the given audience, unless he himself is quite as ready to refer to Jefferson Davis as a traitor in Mississippi as in Massachusetts, to tell the man from whom he solicits a subscription that he is a skinflint, to remind his middle- aged hostess of her years, to introduce a speaker as an unknown from whom the chairman knows not what to expect, and in general refuses to use tact to oil the hinges of everyday intercourse. However much we may con- demn the insincerity of some social customs, we all recog- nize that in social intercourse a degree of tact is even a virtue. In private persuasion, too, we all recognize that to adapt our argument to the one addressed, is wise and justifiable. No clear line can be drawn between right and wrong in the matter of persuasive methods. The honest man will be on his guard, on the platform or off, and will endeavor to keep a goodly distance on the right side of such a wavering line as an enlightened conscience may reveal. He will not wish to have or to deserve a reputa- tion for trickiness. He will not seek to deceive audience concerning his convictions, or practise that b i' ' suppression which amounts to deception. But honesty does not demand that we speak all < mind or tell all the truth all the time. Even the o PERSUASION AND BELIEF 341 to ''tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth/' is not held to mean that a witness must tell all he knows regardless of its relevancy to the issue. Hon- esty does not require that we arouse a man's opposition on all subjects when we wish to persuade him in regard to one ; that we antagonize his race pride when we only want him to vote for a cleaner city. A young speaker while discussing the relations of employers and em- ployees, went out of his way to sneer at church members. When criticized for giving unnecessary offense to many just employers, he replied with a rebuking air, ''I say what I think!" Had his theme been the shortcomings of church members in regard to the labor problem, it would have been quite a different matter. It is often a speaker's duty to tell his audience unpalatable truth, and then he should speak fearlessly. But even then, if he is really eager to gain acceptance for his truth, he will not be heedless of how he approaches his audience. The man both honest and just will not fail to observe that, while there are times for words like clubs or the ''whip of small cords," there are more times for kindlier methods. He will never be willing to confuse honesty with discourtesy, egotism, or bigotry. The man who combines honesty with sympathetic understanding of others, and earnest- ness of conviction with tolerance, will be both sincere and tactful. To those troubled over this matter, and I am not sorry there are such, I commend the speeches of Paul as reported in the Acts of the Apostles. When one remembers the sternness with which he ut- tered rebukes, and remembers the sufferings, even unto death, which he endured for his convictions, one will hardlj' accuse Paul of being an insincere trickster. Yet he was one of the most persuasive of speakers. The largest elements in his persuasion, no doubt, were the faith, the convictions and the character of the man ; but skill was not lacking. The « Authorized Version of the Bible makes Paul 342 PUBLIC SPEAKING begin his address to the Athenians ; i "Ye men of Athens, I per- ceive that in all things ye are too superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscrip- tion, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly wor- ship, him declare I unto you." Certainly this would not have been tactful before those Athenians, proud of their culture ; but we have better sense and better persuasion if we adopt the transla- tion of the noted Biblical scholars, Conybeare and Howson : 2 "AH things which I behold bear witness to your carefulness in religion. . . . Whom, therefore, ye worship, though ye know Him not, Him declare I unto you." A cutting criticism becomes an approach to a common ground. Paul goes on to speak of the God who *'hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on the face of the earth, . . . that they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him and find him, though he be not far from every one of us : For in him we live and move and have our being : as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.'' The reference to an Athenian altar, the reminder of the kinship of all races, the quotation from their poet, and the unusually philosophic tone of the speech as a whole, were all attempts to win a favorable hearing. Read also Paul's speech before Agrippa. He came before Agrippa as a prisoner to make his defense : "I think myself happy, King Agrippa, because I am to ansvrer for myself this day before thee touching all the things whereof I am accused of the Jews : especially because I know thee to be expert in all customs and questions which are among the Jews : wherefore I beseech thee to hear me patiently." Some one has pointed out that Paul paid Agrippa, one of the most dissolute rulers of his time, almost the only honest compliment pos- sible. It was Paul who said, "I am become all things to all men, that I may by some means save some" : that is, he adapted himself to his hearers. But he never compromised his message, never adul- terated the truth, and never flinched from plain speaking. Persuasion is good or bad as we make it. It is right to persuade men if it is right to influence and lead them. Who has spoken with more glowing approval of the power of the orator than Emerson ? I should not dare go so far : ''That which he wishes, that which eloquence ought to reach, is, not a particular skill in telling a story, or 1 Ae#s, 17:22. ^Life and Epistles of St, Paul, Vol. I, p. 445, PERSUASION AND BELIEF S4S neatly summing up evidence, or arguing logically, or dexterously addressing the prejudice of a company, — but a taking sovereign possession of the audience. Him we call an artist, who shall play on an assembly of men as a master on the keys of a piano, — who, seeing the peo- ple furious, shall soften and compose them, shall draw them, when he will, to laughter and to tears. Bring him to his audience, and, be they who they may, — coarse or refined, pleased or displeased, sulky or savage, with their opinions in the keeping of a confessor, or with their opin- ions in their bank-safes, — he will have them pleased and humored as he chooses ; and they shall carry and execute that which he bids them. ' ' - Making the impression enduring. We should bring ' together here certain ideas f ron^ the preceding discussion of persuasion, which bear upon the problem of maintain^ ing belief and affecting conduct in the future, after the personal influence of the speaker and the impulse of the occasion have faded. The speaker may wish to control the action of his hearers at some time, days, months or years after his speech ; or he may wish to start them on a course to be continued for a long period ; as when he is urging a student body to give steady support to athletics, or when a preacher urges righteous living. In either case the task is more difficult than when the action aimed at is immediate. No sure solution of this problem is pos- sible, but some suggestion can be made. The problem is still that of attention. Pillsbury,^ after stating that voluntary action is the result of attention, says that the remote act is the same as the immediate, except that the movements are delayed to await an appropriate immediate stimulus in another set of cir- cumstances. ... It is decided, for example, that if sufficient money is available one university will be at- 1 Attention, p. 160. 344 PUBLIC SPEAKING tended, if not another will be chosen. . . . The de- cision acts at once to control and influence later atten- tion." That is, if you induce a man to-day to deter- mine that if it rains next Friday night he will go fishing with you Saturday morning, when the rain comes he gives no attention to any other course than going fishing. Sometimes, Pillsbury says, ''the decision may even act in advance to make attention at the moment practically unnecessary." That could hardly be in so important a matter as going to college; nor can we make sure that when the moment for action comes, attention will not turn to alternative actions; for example, we could not make sure that the young man desirous of going to a certain university, would give over all thoughts of it, even though sufficient funds were not forthcoming. He might yield to the temptation to go there anyhow. An adviser who in July wishes to make sure that the young man will follow the more prudent course in September, will en- deavor to impress the reasons for that course upon the young man's memory so that they will persist and will surely recur at the moment of final decision. Now we are told that impressions persist according to their primacy, frequency, recency and vividness. Of primacy little is to be said, except that the adviser will make it a point, if possible, to impress his views before other views are fixed. Recency is the one element that is lacking when we consider future action; but the term suggests the desirability of renewing one' advice near the time of final decision. Frequency w have often emphasized in terms of repetition ; and vivid ness in our discussions of imagery and concrete, specific and pungent phraseology. We see again, also, the importance of sound argument, PERSUASION AND BELIEF 345 that will stand the test of later examination and hostile attack. The farther we are looking into the future, the less we can depend upon suggestion, personal influence, or enthusiasm, and the more we must depend upon con- viction. Particularly do we need to fix in the minds of our hearers arguments that are clear, simple and readily remembered. That adherent is not very firmly attached to your cause who can only say when challenged, '^Well, I remember that when I heard the argument I was con- vinced, but I cannot remember it now''; or, ^'I do not quite understand it now.'/ Brutus 's speech was good while it lasted, but it was not of a character to stick in mind; and Antony's more vivid speech drove it from attention. Again, the keener the interests with which a proposal and the arguments for it are associated, the better they will cling; and the larger the number of these interests the more likely they are to be suggested again and again to the hearer's mind. Motives should be enlisted which are strong and also which are constant with those per- suaded, — their everyday working motives and not merely those that are awakened by special inspiration. The de- sired action should be thoroughly associated with custom- ary modes of action and with fundamental beliefs, which are themselves fixed and persistent. Much reliance must be placed upon the ^^set" of mind established, upon the mood of conviction. Arguments, precedents and authorities can boused to create the feel- ing that the proposed course is sound, correct, respect- able, safe, noble, whatever is desirable ; while the alterna- tive course and the arguments for it can be made to appear unsound, unsafe, ignoble, associated with un- worthy persons and despised courses, — in general, given S46 PUBLIC SPEAKING a character which will cause them to be hustled out when they presume again to present themselves at the ante- chamber of consciousness. It will be seen from the preceding that the. emotional attitude established is of high importance. It is a mis- take to suppose, what is often asserted or intimated, that a conviction established by pure logical argument will persist longer than one which is supported by emotion. ( The strongest conviction rests upon both reason and emo- tion. Provided the emotional attitude toward a given action or belief persists, reasons will usually be found to support it, though the original reasons have faded from memory. In particular, the ^^wish to believe" should be given enduring strength. If one can awaken a persistent de- sire, one may be confident that it will ^Hend to maintain the idea of its object or end at the focus of conscious- ness. ' ' ^ Emotions fade, but ''when the emotion has run its course, there is often left a permanent residue , . . that may be designated as a mood. This mood ma^^ be vague and uncertain, ... or definite and clear. In the latter instance it may be termed an 'emotionalized prejudice' ; that is, a predisposition to act in certain characteristic ways in the presence of an object around which center marked feel- ing values. Prejudices of this sort are easily found in politics, morality and religion. When once formed they are extremely dif- ficult to overcome." 2 It should be said that the writers of this extract give no sinister meaning to the term prejudice. To them a prejudice may be either good or bad. They add: "Not only may a mood be the result of an emotionalized upheaval ; it may become the starting point of a new expression of the emotion." Applying this statement to our work, if one awakens a strong emotion in his hearers, which results in a mood, that emotion will readily be awakened again by the circumstances with which it has been as-, sociated. 1 See quotation from McDougall at p. 196. 2 Colvin and Bagley, Human Behavior^ p. 84. PERSUASION AND BELIEF 347 We have before noted the value of inducing one 's hear- ers to commit themselves at once, when the principal action desired is in the future, so enlisting on one's side the force of inertia which keeps men moving in courses once begun, reluctance to break with associations once formed, and also the pride which makes us reluctant to appear inconsistent. Work to do. It is assumed, of course, that the student of this chapter will take his opportunities to apply the principles in persuasive speeches, particularly those which seek to overcome active opposition. He may also profit by studying speeches of the orators. For his present purpose those speeches are best which have sprung from historical crises. Eliot's Debates, containing the pro- ceedings of the conventions that in the various states first adopted the National Constitution; the debates of Web- ster and Hayne and Webster and Calhoun on the issue of Nullification, and the Lincoln-Douglas debates, are well adapted to the purpose. Speeches of to-day, concerning matters great and small, will prove suggestive; but the historic contests can be better grasped because of the work which historians and literary men have put upon them. The student should give much attention to the occasions of the speeches studied, and give fair attention to both sides. He should read with care the brilliant speech of Hayne as well as the famous Reply; the arguments of Douglas as well as those of Lincoln. Perhaps the best single study will be found in Bouton's The Lin- coln and Douglas Debates, which contains four complete debates of the series, the Springfield and the Cooper Union speeches of Lincoln, and a good introduction and notes. Harding's Select Orations Il- lustrating American History is an excellent work, though there is too much abbreviation of speeches. Webster^ s Great Speeches con- tains a good selection of his works, and is especially valuable as in- cluding Whipple's essay on V^^ebster as a Master of English Style. PUBLIC SPEAKING Webster's complete works fill many volumes, edited by Edward Everett. But in studying his great debates go to Delates and Pro- ceedings in Congress^ or to Benton's abbreviation of the Congres- sional debates. Conclusion. After all this discussion of persuasion, I have to say that the subject is by no means exhausted. It is as large as human nature. It is a subject that grows upon one with experience. I have not tried to fix dog- matic rules for a subject of such complexity. My hope is that the student will acquire such an interest that he will continue the study, and such a grasp of principles that he can make his study profitable. The study will by no means be confined to books and speeches, but will force itself upon the attention of one interested, in every rela- tion of life. The principles given can be tested and elaborated by your own experiences, in influencing others, and in being influenced by others. You can study jDcr- suasion in your relations with those with whom you have dealings, — with those in authority over you, with those over whom you have authority, and with those with whom you must cooperate. You can learn a lesson from the advertisement, the business letter, the gentleman who solicits your subscription for a book or a charity, the candidate who seeks your vote, the student leader who would arouse college spirit,'' as well as from every movement and every propagandist of the time. CHAPTER X SELECTING THE SUBJECT Selecting the topic is sometimes the most difficult part of making a speech. The speaker in court, in the legislature or the convention, and, to a great extent, in the pulpit, finds his theme prescribed for him. The theme of the so-called occasional address, also, may be dictated v/ith more or less definiteness by the occasion; as at a dedication or a celebration. But there are times when the occasion permits such wide latitude that one feels at a loss; and there are times when the demand is simply for a speech, and the chairman of the committee on arrangements says with the utmost generosity, ^^Oh, just anything at all!'' The problems that arise from such a situation, and some which are common to all oc- casions, call for consideration. The student in a speaking class especially needs some suggestions. Instead of mooning about with the vague question, What in the world can I speak about? the seeker after a bright idea should put to himself certain questions which will define his possibilities. vj. Does. the occasion suggest an appropriate theme? Little needs to be said under this head except that we should avoid violently wrenching an occasion or a theme from its natural trend, or disappointing the expectations of an audience. For example, if an audience has gath- ered to do honor to a man, they may resent, or at least bis friends may resent, your failure to render due honor 349 PUBLIC SPEAKING to him. A Founder's Day celebration £ h no mention is made of the founder does nc ie his descendants. The less personal the feeli one's hearers for the hero, the greater the liberty allowed in theme and treatment. Washington's birthday has be- come merely a patriotic holiday; but we can hardly say the same of Lincoln's birthday. Again, an audience may come together because they wish to hear a certain theme discussed, either because it is the theme of the hour, or because they particularly wish to hear the speaker of the occasion on that theme.' One may have good reason for refusing to meet the expectation of his audience, but it is not lightly to be ignored.J If the first question must be answered in the negative, one should then ask, 2. Is there an appropriate subject in which I am interested, and in which I can interest my audience? The student who cannot think of an interesting theme is a common figure in classes in public speaking. If he will go to his instructor in time, instead of taking Capital Punishment at the last moment, there may be help for him. It is usually unwise to assign a topic ; for he is too likely to accept it without real interest. ^ ' What are you interested in ? " inquires the instructor. The astonishing answer often given, ^'Nothing," really means, nothing that will do for a speech. The student's interests are so near him often, that he cannot see them ; or so familiar that he assumes no one would care to hear of them. ''What are you studying?" is the next query. Per- haps economics is the student's present interest. There are, of course, no end of topics for speeches in that field ; j such as labor questions, socialism, or the sinr ' " "♦•ax. All j are too large for short speeches, but they s i ^ sub- 1 division. Political science suggests nur- ? topics;! SELECTING THE SUBJECT 351 such as the initiative, the recall, city managers, bossism, and Tammany Hall. Social science is even more fruitful of good topics : the problems of philanthropy and social welfare, — college settlements, playgrounds, junior repub- lics, summer camps, prison reforms, eugenics, etc. His- tory presents many themes which can be related to present-day problems, and many characters of high interest. Literature, especially the drama and the novel ; the law, engineering, agriculture, — in fact, every field of study offers something, if only one can recognize it. One student gloomily told me that his specialty was Latin, and no one could get a topic out of Latin. "But why are you studying Latin in this age and place?" he was asked. "Are you not ridi- culed by your friends who are so wise and practical about chemicals and engines?" He made a speech which was at least as wise as the average faculty debate on educational problems ; and he commanded interest. To a despairing law student was told how a class had an- swered the question, "How many prospective lawyers here?" with "None; we are all honest!" He was stirred to a speech on the ethics of law, — a theme which usually arouses the interest of both lawyers and laymen. Laymen like to hear, also, of certain law problems that arise in ordinary affairs, or are discussed in the pa- pers, such as injunctions. Unless a student, however, has done a considerable amount of work in the field from which he proposes to draw a topic, there is little hope that he will have gotten his bearings in it, found out who the authorities are, what men have thought about it, what theories are ex- ploded and what proved sound, will have assimilated the matter and determined his beliefs, to such an extent that he can deal with it justly. He will do much better with a topic from a study taken last year than from one quite new to him. A student submitted socialism as a theme, saying he was just beginning a course in the subject. It was evident his ideas were of the vaguest, else he would not have thought to present so large a topic in five 352 PUBLIC SPEAKING minutes. It should be further observed, by one taking a theme from class work, that to give a mere resume of lectures is not very profitable as training ; since the search for and arrangement of material is an important part of our work, and public speaking is the expression of one 's own opinions; and also that such a procedure is not honorable when an original speech has been called for. My own classes usually begin with campus topics; that is, subjects that are or ought to be discussed among students. These have certain advantages: the speakers have first-hand knowledge of these subjects; and they and their hearers have keen interest in them. These themes tend to keep the beginner from assuming strange tones and poses, and help him to come into touch with his audience. A student addressing students upon student interests does not feel that the situation is abnormal. And it is a good thing for students to study the problems of their campus life, upon which they often have preju- dices rather than information and reasoned beliefs. The vices of campus topics lie close to their virtues. Too often students feel that no search for material and no thinking is needed on these themes, and that it is not worth while to treat them with care or present them with dignity and effectiveness. They too rarely get at the principles involved by thorough analysis. The difficulty is plainly more in the treatment than in the topics. But inasmuch as campus topics do not as a rule furnish much development, it proves best to limit their use, once a class is well launched, to those instances in which there is reason to believe that thorough-going work will be done ; and on those terms we have some strong speeches. Some of the best of our recent speeches at Cornell, winning ora- tions in fact, have been upon such topics as College ''Activities,*' and **V5^hat is College for?*' Topics that have proved good in class SELECTING THE SUBJECT S58 are: Should the University control boarding houses? To what extent is the University responsible for the lives of its students? The honor system (in its various forms), Co-education, Profes- sional coaches, Summer baseball, "Wet" banquets, Theory and practice in professional courses. Should ''bread-and-butter" courses be given in the Arts College? The four-year residence requirement, Working one's way through college. Any one of these, though they may be treated very superficially, permits of high-class work, in getting at the facts, in finding foundation principles, and in meet- ing the views and prejudices of the audience. One speaker's vice which is peculiarly noticeable in speeches on campus topics is that of ''carrying coals to Newcastle." That is, the student speaker proceeds to retail facts and ideas which are the commonest of table talk, as if telling something new. But the fault is less a matter of topic than of failure to work. A student wished to speak on the seemingly threadbare topic, Our need of dormitories. This question w^as put to him, ''Why don't we have dormitories? All agree we need them, and the University has funds that might be used.'^ He began an investigation. University publications offered little ; so he went to the treasurer, who gave him the facts ascertained by a committee of the trustees. The student came back convinced that the trustees would not be justified in using the funds of the University for dormitories, which would make but a small financial return, and that we must wait for gifts. He made the only speech of the many I have heard on the subject that was worth making. There are questions of immediate interest to students which are not strictly campus topics. One of the best speeches I have heard recently was on the proposition that students should not do summer canvassing. Many of the speaker's auditors had done canvassing and re- sented his strictures. The situation was very real and somewhat exciting. Answers were forthcoming. The 354 PUB ^BAKING speaker had simply got I of a common ethical prob- lem as it related itself experience of his audience. interest. A student replied to my random questioning that his home was in Cleveland. "What do you know of Tom Johnson?" *'0h, I know a lot about him ; I am related to his family." ^'Interesting man, was he not?" ''I should think so!" *'Well, anybody who knows Tom Johnson and what he did ought not to lack for sub- jects. By the way, how about your 'Golden Rule* chief of police?" The student grinned. "Why, I never thought of those things. Had no idea what to talk about. Got two or three subjects now.'* He was never again at a loss. Another student who had failed to find a good topic in a whole term, threw himself on my mercy. All my probing came to naught. He had had no special experiences. His home town was common- place. As an afterthought he remarked that he had spent most of his winters in Charleston, South Carolina. Now, what could be more interesting to a Northern audience than the first-hand in- formation he had about the life of that once belligerent city? He knew old confederate majors and old plantation negroes ; his family from ante-bellum days had owned a plantation near the city, on which could be studied many of the South's problems. He knew the Northern point of view and the Southern ; yet he did not want to talk of the South or her problems, he said, because he did not know enough about them ! He would have tackled, on the slightest encouragement, the currency bill or the revolution in China, but he did not know enough of the South. His first reaction was, when urged to speak of the South, "Where can I find material?" In a way he was right ; he did not know enough. But he was urged to arrange first his own facts, impressions and opinions; and then to read widely, including the work of men of many casts of opinion about Southern problems. A large undertakinsj ; but then he hnd a fine opportunity to produce some splendid speeches. He did not need to do all at once; but could have begun on a course that would have developed such a fund of material and ideas, that he would never have been at loss for a popular theme in later years. One on the hunt for . he has had any unique interesting characters, oi will do well to consider if ences, or has known any /ed in a place of peculiar A conventional conception of public speaking some- times causes one to overlook good .subjects ; such as those SELECTING THE SUBJECT 355 pertaining to business, machinery, and in general to how things are clone. Business methods and business can be made both interesting and profitable. Popular science and machines and manufactures often offer good sugges- tions. The advantages and disadvantages of certain types of engines, or of tires, are of interest in this motor- ing age. How to make automobile tires, Diesel engines, the production of certified milk, have proved interesting topics when handled by students who really knew whereof they spoke. Many students come to feel that in the long run they are more benefitted by working upon the economic, polit- ical and social questions of the day, because they think they learn more of permanent w^orth. Certainly it is well that students should take more interest in the ques- tions of the day than most of them do; but a judicious mixture of subjects seems best. The chief moral of these remarks is : Look about you and look in yourself for topics. Get your eyes open for them, and you will find more topics than opportunities for speaking. There is a speech in almost any subject, if you know how to get it out ; though it may not be worth while to get it out in every case. The case is not hopeless even for one w^ho can find no suitable interest existing in his mind. If he will make up his mind to do genuine work upon some subject which he feels he ought to understand, he may gain benefit from the study, as well as make a fairly good speech. Let him go to the periodicals and look for suggestions; but not to find an article that will furnish him all needed material. He should use his wits upon the material, utilizing the directions of Chapter IV. Or one may take a notable book as his starting point. The book will be worth reading for its own sake ; and if 356 . PUBLIC SPEAKING it serves, as it should, to cause its reader to do some independent thinking, he will not only have something to say, but a genuine desire to say it. Books written by authorities, but in a semi-popular vein, are best for the purpose. Many such are suggested to a student in his various courses. One seeking suggestions in some special field, as engineering, law, or agriculture, may ask specialists in those subjects what are the notable books that might prove stimulating. A few books will be suggested here : Bryce's American Com- monwealth, Lowell's Public Opinion and Popular Government^ Lippmann's Preface to Politics, Fiske's American Political Ideals, Belloc and Chesterton's The Party System, Roosevelt's AutoMogra- phy, McCall's Thomas Brackett Reed, Brande's Ferdinand Lassaile, Thayer's Life and Times of Cavour, von Buelow's Imperial Ger- many, Dawson's Germany and the Germans, Birrell's Obiter Dicta, Conklin's Heredity and Environment, Schreiner's Woman and La- bor, George's The Intelligence of Women, Vallery-Radot's Life of Pasteur, Essays in American History Dedicated to Frederick Turner (Read first the essay on Kansas), Chesterton's Heretics, Rice's College and the Future, Fitch's The College Course and Preparation for Life, Eliot's The Training for an Effective Life, Fulton's College Life: Its Conditions and Problems. (See list of "Reference W^orks" at the back of this book.) Certain plays and novels, read thoughtfully, may provoke re- actions that will serve as impulses to speak ; for example : Ibsen's Ghosts and his Enemy of the People, Shaw's The Doctor's Di- lemma, Galsworthy's Justice, Barker's The Voysey Inheritance. Butler's Erewhon, Meredith's Evan Harrington and his Ordeal of Richard Feverel, Wells' Mr. Britling Sees It Through, Mind you, this is a ''last ditch" method of finding a subject. The best topics will come out of the speaker's experience, — in the broad sense of the term, — out of what he has been doing, observing, reading, thinking, before the search for a subject began. This ''working up" of a subject is, of course, not pos- sible for one who puts his choice of a subject off till the last moment. There must be time, not only for gathering SELECTING THE SUBJECT . 357 material, but also for assimilation. Ordinarily we can- not expect good results unless a speaker in choosing his subject two weeks in advance (which is the minimum time he should allow himself), has already a good deal of knowledge and interest in regard to it. 3. What purpose do I wish to accomplish? So far we have assumed that the speaker has no purpose beyond interesting ; but generally he will wish to inform, convince or persuade. As Genung has said,^ the speaker chooses an object rather than a subject; and then he chooses a theme that will serve his object. A stump speaker, for example, has as his object the winning of votes; but he may choose any one of many topics to serve his purpose, — the tariff, the woolen schedule, control of corporations, which party has the worst bosses, or economy. Even when a speaker's general theme is prescribed by the occasion, he still may make the theme serve his own purposes. Thus on Lincoln's birthday, one may honor Lincoln's memory while using his authority to support a policy, or to condemn the party he helped to found. George William Curtis was able to grace with his oratory all sorts of conventional occasions, such as dedications, commencements and the banquets of societies, and at the same time to preach most effectively a high type of patriotism and civic righteousness. Without a serious purpose occasional addresses are likely to be bombastic, dreary or absurd affairs. The Gettysburg Address is masterful in the way Lincoln makes his more evident and his more serious purposes serve each other. In considering purpose, the speaker may well ask him- self if there is any object to be served by discussing the topic under consideration before the prospective audi- ence. Speeches in my classes which urge the need of 1 Practical Rhetoric, p. 258. 358 PUBLIC SPEAKING a new gymnasium and this and that change in admin- istration, would be much more appropriate if they could be addressed to the trustees or the faculty. But this is fully as much a question of the adaptation of material as of choice of topic. A student offered this for his first speech : The student help at the cafeteria should have a rebate on their meals. He was interested and oblivious of the fact that we had nothing to do with the matter. His next offering was, Why our glee club is so success- ful. The speech turned out, as feareo a tendency common, when the mind is sluggish, to stress any strong word regardless of sense. If it be said that the speaker should have noted which is the emphatic word, the answer is that rather he should have kept his mind awake. And this case suggests anot'.ier fact, that often no one word bears all the stress. Surely not all rests here on obscurity. Very wonderful schemes have been worked out to indi- cate the course of the voice in all cases, but these are so intricate that few ever succeed in learning them ; and, worst of all, these mechanical devices get in the way of thinking. Please note, that nowhere in this chapter are you asked to decide which word is em- phatic; and please understand that nowhere is it intended to sug- gest mechanical as opposed to mental action. Centering and phrasing are not fixed and unchanging; but they vary as one conception of a passage varies, as the context varies, or as the speaker conceives the content to be more or less familiar or difficult to his hearers. Note how the centers shift in Emerson's sentence, "If I should make the shortest list of the qualifications of an orator, I should begin with manliness," according to whether we assume that there has been no preceding discussion, or that there has been a discus- sion about orators, or statesmen, or soldiers, or about the qualifi- cations of orators, or lists of qualifications. To study another illustration : *'If ignorance and corruption and intrigue control the primaries, and manage the conventions, and dictate the nominations, the fault is in the honest and intelli- gent workshop and ofiice, in the library and parlor, in the church and the school.'* Taking this sentence without context, each detail may call for a modicum of attention and we shall have many cen- ters. Ignorance, corruption, and intrigue are by no means syno- nyms; each is a distinct cause of political ills. We may say that each of these three w^ords ends a phrase. If the thought is very analytic, this would be right. If, however, we conceive that the main point of the sentence is elsewhere, we shall probably throw the three evils together as a thought unit, the collective cause of political ills, — and end the phrase with intrigue. This will be bet- ter, for if we give attention to too many details, we shall get no unified impression from the sentence. So too the successive stages of candidate-making may be considered separately, making three 428 PUBLIC SPEAKING phrases ; or, less analytically, as but one whole, though this last is hardly probable. If the fact of fault is the main thought of the sentence, then a ph:'ase will end with fault; but if that is taken for granted and the cVief point is thought to be toliose fault, then probably office, parlor, and church will end the remaining phrases. If the distinction be:ween workshop and office is thought of dis- tinctly they will for n distinct centers ; but if they are thought of together as represeriative of business, there will be but one phrase. The more analytic treatment would be extreme and would lead to labored delivery. Taking the sentence in its context, the case is much simpler. (See, at the end of Chapter XIV, the selection Who is to Blame V) We find that the whole sentence is a restatement, for purposes of transition and increased definiteness, of what has been said or implied in the preceding paragraph. On closer analysis we find that, considering the context both before and after this sentence, the especial purpose is to emphasize who is at fault. Since the thought at this stage is familiar, our thought units can be larger, and this is especially true of the less important parts. A mind keenly alive to the relation of this sentence to the whole, will be likely to take in all to intrigue at one *'spurt" of attention; to note in very rapid succession the three stages of the process of nomina- tion ; and to pass over the idea of fault, which is already clearly in mind, letting it fall into the phrase with "workshop and office," The phrases then will end with intrigue^ meeting, convention, nomi- nation, office, parlor, and school. As has been indicated, the dura- tion of attention upon the phrases will vary with their importance, and this means their importance at the moment. While phrasing is often variable, this is not always true. There are some expressions that will not bear breaking. For example, The United States of America could under only the most unusual conditions be con- ceived as two thought units. It is as much a unit, a single name, as France, It would be as proper to sepa- rate in thought and delivery the two syllables of the name Fuller, or the two parts of John Smith. The Con- stitution of the United States of America is likewise a single name. That phrasing and centering are variable should not lead one to assume that they may be left to chance, habit, FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 429 rhythm, or the necessities of breathing. It is important that the speaker think in the true units so that he may convey the true units to his audience. Confused center- ing means confused thinking on the part of the speaker, which will cause confused expression and, therefore, con- fused understanding on the part of the hearer. The youth who declaimed: "My name is Norval on the Gram- pian Hills, — my father feeds his flock a frugal swain," did not mean to imply that his name was different in the Lowlands, and had only his slovenly thinking to blame when some of his puzzled mates thought he said his father fed a flock of frugal swine. The banquet orator who proposed the toast, "Woman without her man — would be a savage!" did not make a hit with the ladies in the balcony ; and there was a just grievance when a preacher in a fish- ing town changed the written request sent up by a good wife, "A man going to sea, his wife requests the prayers of the church," into, "A man going to see his wife — requests the prayers of the church." The importance of thinking in the true units may be seen in attempting to unravel this: "That that is is that that is not is not." One may not often fall into as amusing results as some of those mentioned above, but centering as absurd in fact is common enough. And strangely enough, bad center- ing is nearly as common in delivering the speaker's own matter as when interpreting another's. Whenever the attention slips from content and relations are forgotten, the voice may run units together, or halt and break up units, and so throw upon the hearer the burden of analy- sis or perplex him utterly. But when the mind alertly notes each point, the voice will guide the hearer's atten- tion aright and listening will be easy. ^ How much centering. We should center, not merely upon the major ideas of a sentence or paragraph, but also upon each detail which is necessary for a true grasp of the thought, passing over those which serve their pur- pose while remaining in the fringe of consciousness." 430 PUBLIC SPEAKING Another way to put it is, that we should focus upon each part of the thought we wish the minds of our hear- ers momentarily to dwell upon. How long attention will dwell upon each part of the thought depends upon its importance in the speaker's mind. The time may vary from a hardly appreciable instant to several seconds. This leads us to consider certain common faults. First, is the fault of centering too infrequently, — at- tempting to take and give the thought in too large units. This is the fault of one whose mind skims over the sur- face, taking only a birdVeye view. The result is that neither speaker nor hearer is able to grasp the thought definitely, or gain more than a general understanding. / But the more serious fault, akin to this, is failure to / \ center long enough and firmly enough upon each phrase. The chief reason a beginner usually speaks too fast is that he does not think enough as he goes. This results in vagueness of delivery and indistinctness of impression upon the hearer. He may have understood clearly in preparation; he may have a bare understanding as he speaks ; but he does not grasp the thought in its fullness. His mind should receive a distinct impression from each phrase. And more than that, the audience must have time to think. There is need, therefore, for the delibera- tion which is characteristic of most experienced speak- ers. There is little good in just trying to go slow; the effort often results in yet greater rapidity. The speaker who talks too rapidly should impress upon himself the importance of gaining distinct impressions, full realiza- tion of the content of his words, and of giving his audi- ence time to think. He should fix firmly in mind the truth that his audience cannot move as rapidly as he can. They are not so familiar with his line of thought. If they are to see the pictures suggested, compare his FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 4 statements with their eij:perience, in a word, think ba to him, they must have time. In particular he should impress upon his mind the truth that he fails unless he provokes reaction in his hearers, and causes them to re- late his words to their knowledge, beliefs and experience. In brief, the too rapid speaker should think more, and give his hearers time to think more. It will be found very helpful for one practising de- livery to insert words and phrases which, while they are not necessary to an expression of the thought when de- livery is adequate, will serve to accentuate the relations both of idea to idea and of the ideas to the audience. The use of such phrases sharpens thinking and causes the speaker to take time enough. After practising with these extra words inserted aloud, one may then practise the same passage with them inserted mentally only. He may then practise the same passage without the effort to think in particular words, but making sure that he does realize fully the relations they accentuated. It will be found that this practice will improve expression, not only in respect to rate, but in many other ways. We may illustrate the foregoing from the selection Who is to Blame? Before Sentence 3, one may throw in, Voting is neces- sary, but — " ; and after the same sentence, *'Does n't your experi- ence confirm that?" Beginning with the Sentence 11, we make the passage read: "And within a few years, [I am not talking theory, but present-day facts], as a result of this indifference to the details of public duty, the most powerful politician in the Empire State of the Union [in the state of the greatest wealth, population, and political influence] was [a man who might justly be called] Jonathan Wild the Great, the captain of a band of plunderers. I know it is said [the cheap excuse is common] that the knaves have taken the honest man in a net, and have contrived machinery which will inevitably grind only the grist of rascals. The answer is [and it is a complete answer, fact against theory ; you cannot get away from it], that when honest men did once "What they ought to do always, the thieves were netted and their 432 PUBLIC SPEAKING machine was broken. To say [as you do] that in this country thej rogues must rule, is [not only] to defy history [as I have just] shown you, but what is vastly more serious, it is] to despair of! the republic. [Did you realize that?]" This method of practice will be further illustrated below when we speak more specifically of relations. We must now consider faults of centering and phras- ing which are quite the opposite of those discussed: focusing too frequently and prolonging attention un- duly upon minor ideas. It is of high importance to un- derstand the significance of every word and phrase, but not every idea should come into the focus of attention during delivery. They serve their purpose while remain- ing in the background, or in the fringe of consciousness. Just as some things *'go without saying," so some go with saying, and without special attention. If attention is directed to everything, then nothing stands out, and unity of delivery will be lacking. The sentences will, as it were, fall into bits. The audience will be wearied, because each insignificant point will be forced upon its attention, and because of lack of movement in the deliv- ery. Take as an example: About one-third — of our country — was originally covered — with the most mag- nificent forests." One cannot really think about one- third" alone. About one-third of our country" is the true unit. The rest is a single picture and can be readily grasped at one instant. As we have already seen in considering how the phras- " ing of a sentence may vary, the number of centers in a sentence depends upon the context and the situation to a great extent. The more analytic the mood and the more difficult and unfamiliar the thought, the more nu- merous the centers. The effect upon delivery of unduly prolonging atten- tion upon ideas that do deserve direct notice^ but are yet FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 433 strictly subordinate, is much the same as focusing upon ideas that should be left entirely in the background. This is well illustrated by giving too much attention to the three parts of control the primary meeting, and manage the convention, and dictate the nomination, * ' in Sentence 15 of the selection, Who is to Blame. If in the sentence, ^^And Paul stretched forth his hand, and began to defend himself, ' ' the first clause receives much attention, it will seem a needless detail ; but if it receives a bare glance and is strictly subordinated to the second clause, it will serve its purpose of adding a striking de- tail to the picture. There is also to be noted a sort of false centering which occurs at such words as but, and, that, which, are, and other connective and introductory words, which should ordinarily blend with what follows. There are times when attention should dwell upon the relations which these words represent, but such times are rare. This false centering is sometimes due to conventional reading habits, or to an erroneous belief that we should '^mind our pauses, ' ' meaning the punctuation. But punctation has nothing to do with delivery. A punctuation mark may or may not coincide with the end of a phrase ; as in, * ' Oh, yes, I am young, I know ; but youth, Sir, is not my only crime." False phrasing most often arises from wandering attention or inability to think what comes next. Instead of pausing till he has a grip on his next clause, the speaker begins, ^^But — " and then, like the parson in **The One-Hoss Shay,'' stops perplexed at what the — Moses — is coming next!" It should be noted that phrases are not alwaj^s followed by pauses, being indicated, also, as already said, by other elements, such as rate, pitch, and tone color ; and pause for emphasis may fall in the midst of a phrase. For example, in the first sentence 434 PUBLIC SPEAKING of the second paragraph of the Curtis selection, the three phrases *'control the primaries and manage the conventions and dictate the nominations," might well be given without pause. On the other hand, in ** Woman ! without her, man would be a savage," a speaker might pause before *'a savage," although it is not a phrase. In the second sentence of the selection referred to, there might be a pause after ^^essentially" if the speaker's mind were strongly caught by that thought ; yet undoubtedly the words "of his political duty" belong in the phrase with the preceding words, for as merely echoing **public duty" they hold no meaning upon which the mind should rest. It should be noted also from the last example, that phrases do not necessarily end with important words. On the whole, the fault of centering too little is more common than of centering too much. What is needed is complete understanding of each idea, large and small ; but with this must go an appreciation of the relative im- portance of each in the speech. This involves, as we have seen, a keen realization of the relations of idea to idea. With such a realization, one is in a fair way to speak with correct emphasis, pitch, rate, tone color, and in particular, with proper inflection. Relations of ideas. Some are principal ideas, some subordinate; some are related as cause and effect; some are repetition or echo, some new thoughts; some are contrasted with others, some are concessive rather than in support of the main thought, and so on through all possible relations of ideas to each other and to the cen- tral them^i. Distinguish principal and subordinate ideas. Much poor work, showing itself peculiarly in bad centering and consequent false emphasis, is due to faihire to discrim- inate values. Attention should vary with degree of im- portance. This does riot mean the absolute value of an idea, but its value in its place with reference to the larger thought one is expressing. The principle of this para- graph has already been illustrated with the sentence FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 435 beginning, ''If ignorance, corruption, etc.," and will be- come clearer from what follows. Echo and new idea. The word new here has no refer- ence to novelty or originality, but refers to an idea that has not appeared before in the particular discussion. Echq^ is the recurrence of an idea already expressed. The echo may or may not be in the same words as the part referred to. It most frequently refers to the im- mediately preceding, but may refer to any preceding part. If you will turn to the Curtis selection you will I note that vote in the second sentence echoes voting in the I first and political duty echoes public duty, and that very I heart echoes essentially in the same sentence. Every j sentence in this selection, after the first, contains one or more echoes. They are especially numerous in the last part of the last sentence. Almost any sentence in a speech may be considered a link in a chain, reaching both forward and backward. It is this interlinking which gives firmness of structure, and where it is absent the style is abrupt and liable to be disjointed. When the echoes are not clearly distinguished, delivery will also be disjointed and lacking in coherence. They have been: called the ''connective tissue" of language. A fine example of coherence through echo is found in Lincoln's Gettysburg Address (see Index). Analyze for new idea and echo the first four sentences. Note in particular how might live echoes endure. Then turn to the last sentence of the speech and note the echoes from the opening sentences, and see how the last phrase, usually read with flat dullness, is really charged with meaning by the echo of endure by shall not perish. As an example of an im- portant echo, take the words has failed at the end of the second sentence of the second paragraph of the Curtis selection. Deter- mine what they echo. This hard sentence, and indeed the whole paragraph, is unintelligible unless this echo is clearly recognized. There are in any composition numerous echoes, recognition of which, although they may be less important than some of those 436 PUBLIC SPEAKING referred to, is necessary for informing the voice with the true meaning. That the new idea must be recognized is too obvious for illustration. In the majority of cases, it is the new idea which for the moment is of chief importance; it is the one now to be impressed. The echo, on the other hand, is already in mind and is often given chiefly for the purpose of keeping relations clear. Nevertheless, it may be, in a given case, the most important part of a sentence, as in the case of repetition for emphasis. In the sentence, "For prosperous labor, industry, and commerce, three conditions are necessary : first, liberty ; second, liberty ; third, liberty," the third liberty, though bearing the same meaning as the first, is much more significant. The echoes, noted above, from the Gettysburg Address, might live and shall not perish, are certainly large v^ith meaning. A new idea is not necessarily important, though it usually should have some attention. When Lincoln said, *^Now we are in a great civil war," etc., the fact of war was too obvious to need much attention, though a ^^new idea," but the new idea of testing free government was a major point. So while this method of analysis is an aid in our study, neither it nor any other method can relieve us from the use of our brains. The term echo is hardly adequate, though the one ordi- narily used. Many a phrase which contains a back ref- erence, is really an amplification, or a restatement with so much added meaning and force that the feeling of reference is not prominent, although present. To echoes should be added restatements and amplifications. And there are also instances of restatements wTiere the back reference is entirely lost. Echo or not echo is a question of fact ; that is, the question is not, might not a word or clause refer back, but does it? FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 437 Here, again, we may profitably refer to the practice of putting in additional phrases. This practice is espe- cially helpful in accentuating echoes, or contrasts, which may be at once echoes and new ideas. For example, many in speaking the words absolute ignorance of the candidates,'' in the seventh sentence of the Curtis selec- tion, will fail to realize and indicate the fact that ^^can- didates" echoes whoever was nominated for office," and that ignorance" expresses a sharp contrast with ''was known to his neighbors." So many ideas inter- vene that the relations are lost sight of. Now, if the student will practise Sentence 7 this way, — ''But in the \ocal elections of the great cities of to-day, elections that control taxation and expenditure (instead of having thor- ough knowledge of the candidates), the mass of the voters vote in absolute ignorance of the candidates," — ^he will be pretty sure to speak the final words in a way which reveals both the contrast and the echo. But whether words are inserted or not, it is essential that one speak with keen realization of relations, taking time to recog- nize them. Is the thought forward looking? Most of the thought relations need no discussion here, but there is one other that should be stressed because of its bearing upon ^ common fault. The fault is that of dropping the inflee- tion at nearly every pause, giving a sort of limping ef=v feet. Now, speaking generally, a downward inflection" is our instinctive way of indicating a degree of com- pleteness in the thought; while an upward inflection in- dicates that the mind is looking forward rather than rest- ing upon what is at the instant being said. To illustrate, in speaking the sentence, ''Patriotism, when it rises to the heroic standard, is a positive love of country ; and it will do all and sacrifice all for its object," the voice 438 PUBLIC SPEAKING would naturally rise at any pause other than those at country and object. The fault referred to is evidently that of one who fails to keep alert to the relations of his ideas, and especially to the forward relations. To him every stop is a terminal. The remedy seems to be to practise much upon sentences which demand strongly the look ahead ; such as the following : "On the banks of the Indus; in the fertile valleys of the Euphrates; under the shadow of the mighty Pyramids and along the borders of the Nile ; in frigid Russia, and in sunny Greece ; under the soft skies of Italy and of Spain ; along the slopes where the grapes are gathered and the herds are pastured in beautiful France ; behind the dykes of Holland ; over the plains and amid the forests of Germany ; far north in the Scandinavian retreats, where muscle is trained by hardship, and storm nurtures the cour- age to do and dare ; within the sea-girt isle, whose scepter of authority has been wielded by an Alfred, by a William the Con- queror, by an Elizabeth, and by a Victoria ; up in the Highlands where Bruce and VV^allace led their clans, and Burns sang songs as enduring as Homer's, and Scott waved his wizard wand ; in Ire- land, where the echoes of the voice of O'Connell still linger in the air, persuasive, potential, and the name of Robert Emmet stirs like a bugle call ; here in this broad land of America ; — everywhere, of whatever race or clime, man feels himself to be hindered, cramped, thwarted, cruelly wronged, without liberty." ''The hills, Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun ; the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods; rivers that move In majesty ; and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man." Sometimes the fault has grown into a habit so strong that it will not yield to mental treatment" alone; and then the inflections should be drilled up arbitrarily, till the ear grows to demand them. What is said of the treatment of this fault may be applied, in FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 439 principle, to the treatment of any other delivery faults that persist very long after good mental action on the platform has been attained. There is the correlative fault of rarely letting the voice fall, even at the end of sentences. Such delivery, an approach to intoning, lacks positiveness and directness. It is due to taking too cursory a view, failing to center definitely enough. But it is sometimes an affectation. It is common among stump speakers. The practice of sustaining all inflections, though employed by some eminent speakers, and sometimes defended as a means of making the voice carry over great audiences, is, I believe, rarely justified and it quickly establishes a bad habit. It seems to be going out of vogue. These suggestions are practicable. At this stage stu- dents have said, ''How is it possible to attend to so many things at once, especially when one is addressing an audience ? ' ' The question is natural, but rests upon a misunderstanding. I do not mean that you should be saying to yourself. This is the main idea. This is an echo of such and such a passage. That would be but little better than to be saying, This word is emphatic, and, I must pause here. But I do mean that you are to be sensible of values and relations as you speak. The better your preparation and grasp, the easier your task. For a beginner to control his mind sufficiently may not be easy, but for this control he must work and practise. But after all, what is urged upon you must be practic- able, for it is only what we do in a wide-awake conversa- tion. We are striving only to reproduce and accentuate upon the platform the mental activities of conversation. Pause. The grand secret of success in carrying on all the-complex process is pause. The rapid turning of at- ^ntion from the particular idea to its relations and to 440 • PUBLIC SPEAKING the audience, all becomes possible when we take time. ; There is hardly a beginner who does not need this advice : ' Train yourself strictly to the habit of pausing until the \ next thought and its relations are clearly grasped hy / your mind, before giving it to your audience. And do 1.- tf6t forget that that requirement is not met by grasping the bare intellectual content of your words. You must recognize the full significance of the thought, and that includes the emotional content also. Eemember also that while the speaker needs time to think what is to be said, the audience needs time to think of what has been said. ' ' Speech is silvern ; silence is golden, ' ' says the proverb, and silence is never more golden than in the midst of speech. Do not fear your pauses will be too long. What may seem to a beginner a long wait will really be very short. When your mind is doing its proper work in your pauses, they will not seem long. Do not fear that drawling will result from deliberate pausing. When it is not inten- tional, drawling is the sign of a listless, or of a too intro- spective state of mind, and not the expression of alert thinking. Do not confuse pause with hesitation. We pause to think; we hesitate because we cannot think. Nothing is more tiresome to an audience than a hesitating, halting delivery. It seems to be due chiefly to beginning a clause without a firm forward-looking grasp of it. Hesitation is especially annoying when the gaps are filled with urs and iihs. Grunting is no part of thinking. Heed the plea of Oliver Wendell Holmes : "And when you stick on conversations burrs, Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful wrs." Pause gives opportunity for breathing, but a speaker should never stop simply to breathe. That is to let FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 441 physical necessities tyrannize over mental processes. So far as consciousness is concerned, pause should be only an opportunity to think. Still, breathing is an impor- tant matter. A well controlled, sufficient supply of breath is necessary to a well supported tone and helps ^ to steady the nerves. A speaker should cultivate the habit of utilizing nearly every pause to take breath. The opportunities are always sufficient, without interfering with the thought movement. Summarizing will be found very helpful; first, because to make a good summary one must have the clearest un- derstanding ; and, secondly, because if you put into youry summary just the right turn of the thought, the real; point of view and the true emphasis, and fix this in your mind before you rise to speak, it will aid you greatly in giving to each part its due importance and in relating each to the whole. A summary is like a bird's- eye view: by omitting details it makes clearer the rela- tions of parts. Analysis is necessary in order to distin- guish relations, but after analysis must come synthesis. The practice of summarizing will help in gaining quali- ties of delivery not at all common : coherence and struc- tural emphasis ; which will in turn give the hearer unity of impression. I use the terin structural emphasis be- cause, emphasis is too commonly thought of as concerned with the sentence only. Many speakers who deliver in- dividual sentences well, fail in giving due value to each part as related to the whole. Summarize your speech, then, as a whole, and summarize each paragraph. Make these as brief and clear-cut as you can, in order that they may be easily carried in mind. If a short speech can- not be summarized in one rather brief sentence, look upon that fact as a danger signal; there is probably a lack of unity or of clearness in your thought. 442 PUBLIC SPEAKING The thought chain. Another excellent practice for training the thinking of a young speaker is, when once the details of a speech have been worked out, to go, si- lently at first, over the thought chain or thought move- ment, time after time, until he has worn such a groove in his mind that he can, without reference to notes and without mental wandering, proceed through his entire speech step by step, individualizing each point and seeing each in its proper relations. A practical aid is mentally to throw into the transitions such phrases as, to be sure, granted, for example, to take up another point, so true is this, as was said before, or such additions as have been suggested above. These accentuate the relations, and hence prompt more definite expression. They also aid the memory, for trouble in remembering is due usually to weak transition. Monotony of delivery is a fault so common that it is worth while to point out here that monotony is due fundamentally to failure in discrimination, — to drifting; and that it can hardly exist where the true value and character of each idea is recognized and relations are clearly discerned; provided there be emotional as well as intellectual discrimination. How to work. The methods set forth in this chapter can be most advantageously practised by the beginner with a written speech or a selection. But they are, in part, quite as applicable to an extemporaneous speech; that is a speech prepared and outlined, but not fixed in phraseology. Let there be the most complete under- standing of each detail and of the relation of idea to idea, and then let there be speaking, with deliberate, com- plete thinking. Do not try to ''make a speech," but only to command the thought and to express it; first as to FURTHER STUDY OF DELIVERY 413 one person (to an actual person if you have a patient friend), and then to a larger and larger number. Do not use these methods mechanically. Since the teachings of this chapter can be easily translated into mechanical methods, it may be best to restate the differ- ence between such methods and the methods intended. Take the matter of emphasis as typical: One working by the mechanical method decides that a given word is emphatic ; say, to-night in the sentence, ^ ' Are you going down town to-night V He then consciously stresses that word. It is an act not very unlike that of the pianist in pressing a pedal ; the more practised he is, of course, the less attention the act requires. One working by our method, holds in mind the meaning he wishes to convey, and trusts the conception to prompt the right emphasis, as in conversation. If he finds difficult}'^ in securing the right expression, he accentuates his thinking, perhaps saying to himself, ' ' The question is between to-night and to-morrow night." He seeks right expression from con^ centrated attention rather than by consciously applied stress. And if on rare occasions he finds the mechanical method helpful, he looks upon it rather as a last resort than as sound practice; for the mechanical method in- serts a process, unknown to normal expression, between the mental action and the voice. The elements of expression. To make expression clearer and stronger, accentuate mental processes which are the natural cause of expression. Proper pausing and phrasing will spring from recognition of the successive thought units ; and the length of pause and rate of utter- ance will be regulated by the relative values which the mind assigns to each step. From centering will spring emphasis, which will be due emphasis, if the relation of 444 PUBLIC SPEAKING part to part is clearly in mind. Kecognition of relations will prompt true inflections. Change of pitch arises from discrimination of ideas and values; climax from a sense of the development of the thought and feeling ; and change of tone color from change of attitude, as from the explanatory to the argu- mentative mood. Where these elements of expression exist, monotony is impossible. It should be understood that this analysis is but a rough one ; the various elements may combine in countless ways. Expression is too com- plex a matter for brief analysis; if, indeed, complete analysis be possible. CHAPTER XIV THE STUDY AND DELIVERY OF SELECTIONS The practice of delivering selections, usually called declamations, from the works of others, is an ancient method of learning to speak in public; and while too much attention has at times been paid to it, the practice, nevertheless, is valuable. I believe it best for the student to begin his work with original speeches, since with his own ideas, put in his own words and said in his own way, he is less likely to feel that he is making an exhibition and more likely to catch the idea that public speaking is real communication. Let him begin very close to actual conversation and then build up his delivery to meet the demands of the platform. Value of the practice. But as soon as the beginner has realized in a measure the nature of public delivery, there are certain benefits which he can secure from work on selections. In the first place, most beginners are accus- tomed to express but a limited range of ideas, and often they are unwilling to express these freely. Given a good selection, they will often speak with more confidence and freedom, even with more earnestness, than with their own matter; provided, there is thorough assimilation. Sec- ondly, beginners, before they learn how to work effec- tively, frequently have, or think they have, extremely little to say; and this little they are unable to put into language that will ''speak." In short, they may fail to prepare speeches that permit good delivery. A good 445 446 PUBLIC SPEAKING selection furnishes a speech that will speak ; and from it the student may catch something of the spirit and style of good speeches. He receives the influence of good style in the best way, not from conscious imitation, but by coming to feel it through intimate acquaintance. Again, the ability to master and deliver effectively the words of another is in itself worth while. A speaker fre- quently wishes to read a passage or to quote it from mem- ory. At such times the audience rarely listens well ; but good reading should be as direct in tone and as easy to listen to as other delivery. "We take up selections for the sake of their effect upon public speaking; but the im- provement in oral reading is a valuable ^ ^ by-product. " Professor Corson has told us that oral reading is one of the best methods of studying literature,^ and also that it has great cultural value. Oral interpretation has cul- tural value because it is no child 's play really to master a good piece of literature, but a work worthy the best pow- ers of any student I have yet met. In these days of lec- tures and reports there is rather little training in close interpretation and little ability to reproduce faithfully the contents of a printed page. Many a student, intro- duced to the work of this chapter, has at first revolted and later greatly valued a training which has helped him in all his reading, silent as well as oral. Many educators value, also, the training in memorizing, holding that to- day there is too little memorizing as formerly there was too much. Finally the instructor in speaking values this work because it gives him the best opportunity for effectual drill. It is true that many of the benefits of work with selections can be obtained with original speeches alone, but my experience is that, after the course is well started, the best method is to alternate the two 1 Voice and Spiritual Education. THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 447 kinds of speeches, so that each kind of work may supple- ment the other. There are well-known evils which may arise in work on selections, which I shall try to guard against in the following suggestions. Character of the work proposed. I substitute the word selection for declamation because the work here proposed departs considerably from the usual practice of declama- tion. I do not advise a student early in his course to take up impersonation, — to speak as Regulus to the Carthaginians or as Webster in the Senate, for fear this practice might encourage the tendency to be unreal. I do not wish him to think of himself even as an interpre- ter. That is reading and we are working at speaking.-^ I wish the student, even while interpreting, to speak, * strictly in his own person, ideas which he has made his \ own and which he heartily believes in, to his actual audi- ence. It is true that it does a young man good to *'get out of himself" and speak as Clay or Phillips ; it enlarges his outlook and de- velops his imagination. But these benefits may be sought in oral reading and amateur acting ; though much acting cannot be ad- vised, lest the speaker become unable to keep the actor ofi^ the platform. The speaker who has first been an actor often has a hard time in gaining the power to speak as himself. On the other hand, some speakers benefit by throwing themselves into a part in a play, finding a new freedom. It is true that public speakers at times impersonate, or even become actors for a moment ; as in "taking off'* a person or in putting a situation vividly before their hearers. They may say, Let us go back to the days of the Revolution and imagine, etc. ; but always they maintain an understanding with their audience. That is something very different from the performance of the fif- teen-year-old boy who strides forward and begins without warn- ing : "Ye call me Chief, and ye do well to call him Chief who for twelve long years has met upon the arena every shape of man or beast the broad empire could furnish." Too great in- dulgence in that sort of thing, and in La Cigarette, Lasca, How the poor old blind wind-broken horse won the race, and the Death- bed of Benedict Arnold {Tr-r-aitor !) , which seem to hold the 448 PUBLIC SPEAKING boards in school "rhetoricals," goes far to establish the bad habits which students bring to college. While a moderate use of these kinds of selections may be beneficial, they do not develop a con- ception of genuine public speaking ; and students who have been trained upon them are more helpless than those- who never faced an audience, when asked to make a simple speech and carry out the suggestions of Chapter II. If "Curfew m-u-s-t not ring t-o-n-i-g-h-t," at least let us not call the agony of prevention, public speaking. After a student has had several months of training in which to find himself, some impersonation in his public speaking course may prove beneficial. But let us not confuse reading, acting and impersonating with public speaking. It is the speaker's business to speak as him- self ; let him learn by speaking as himself. And after all, he can cultivate imagination by speaking of ancient Eome from the standpoint of to-day, without thinking he is Cicero in the Forum ; and he can broaden his experience by treating of our Civil War as related to the present, and by reaching out from our little college world to the stirring events of the time. Even a high school student may well take notice that General Weyler is no longer butchering the innocent Cubans and that a Chinese ex- clusion act was passed many years ago. It is not only those selections which manifestly call for make-believe on the part of the speaker, that I would put under the ban for our purpose ; but also those which be- cause of their point of view are essentially unfitted to a given speaker. Such a speech is Grady's The New South, for a Northern student. It is distinctly the speech of a Southern man. Then there are many which, while still as true as ever, are quite cut of touch with the present. This same New South speech is out of date even for a Southern student; for it belongs to the days before the Spanish War when sectionalism still troubled us. There THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 449 are in the books of selections many good speeches about ^ * Imperialism, " a burning issue in 1900, but now forgot- ten. Many speeches about peace and arbitration sound strange since the European war began. On the other hand, many selections from speeches first delivered many years ago are as appropriate as ever; as, for example, those at the end of this chapter. Only the limitations of the public speaker. Under the conditions here laid down, the student of public speaking will still have liberties enough. He may do anything which any genuine speaker may. He may dis- cuss any topic known among men, so long as he keeps his feet on the platform and remembers who he is and where he is. Finding good selections. In spite of the limitations, the supply of appropriate selections is inexhaustible. While some old favorites are ruled out, others, with or without modification, are as good as ever. A few allu- sions can be removed, a new illustration used, a passage peculiarly personal to the author can be cut out or quoted, here and there a passage rewritten ; and by a variety of devices, without affecting the essential qualities of the selection, it may be used without pretense. That elo- quent bit from Ingersoll, At Napoleon's Tomb, has been built over successfully in several ways in my classes. Of course, if the alterations have to be very extensive, it is evident that the selection in question is not the one to be used. By means of such changes many good selections can be made which would otherwise hardly be thought of. There is a fine passage in Jerome's Three Men in a Boat, about lumber on the voyage of life. By composing a few words of explanation about the story which suggests the passage and changing a bit the beginning, we have an excellent selection. 450 PUBLIC SPEAKING Some seem horrified by such tampering with printed words; but there is not much sacred literature that is likely to be used, and most students have too much awe of books. It is really excellent training in speech-writ- ing to make a good selection, cutting out here, remodeling there, and producing a clear, unified, strong speech. It is rather rarely that we find a selection of just the right length without some cutting. The Curtis selection is composed of paragraphs 6 and 7 of a long speech, with the excision of a bit from the end of the first of the two, in order to remove some allusions of no point to-day. Where to find good material is an ever present ques- tion. There are many books of declamations, and if the student will look upon these as containing a few good selections and some good raw material, and overlook a good deal of trash, he can make them useful. Most of them are compiled with other purposes than ours. They are filled with ''readings" for elocutionists. And it must be said that many of the editors show more regard for sound than for sense. There are, however, several useful compilations. Among the best of these books for our purpose are Shurter's American Oratory of To-c/at/, Shurter's Moderfi American Speaker^ The Hamilton Declamation Quarterly, Frink's New Century (Speaker, and Blackstone's Best American Orations. Some excel- lent selections, brief and fresh, are to be found in Lewis's American Speech, Chapter IX. Many of the best selections delivered in our classes are found by students in their general reading. Such essay- ists as Stevenson, Ruskin and Carlyle, such speakers as Curtis, Phillips and Watterson, the current magazines of the better class, and many other less promising sources are drawn upon. The more popular works of scientists and scholars occasionally furnish good material. For THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 451 example, a good selection on Habit has been made from James's Talks to Teachers, If one has his eyes open and knows the characteristics of a good selection, he will find material every day. Much time is lost because the student begins his hunt with nothing in mind but a piece to speak." He turns over a hundred, not really getting the full impression of any, and finally selects one that will ^^do." Look for a particular theme, or a selection by a particular author, or at least for a particular kind of selection, and when you find one at all promising give it careful attention. Seek a good selection, but do not look for perfection. A pretty good selection well assimilated is better than the best one found too late for thorough preparation. Qualities of a good selection. In the first place, the student should look for something he firmly believes in. Too many look for something that sounds good,'' re- gardless of content. Phillip's Toussaint L'Ouverture is remarkably good speaking English ; but no one, unless he actually believes them, can afford to deliver its aston- ishing claims. That would develop insincerity. The speaker should not be contented with not disbelieving in his selection; he should feel the same responsibility for its sentiments as if he had written it. Let him find a selection which represents his views at least in the main ; and then modify it till it fits exactly. Given a selection you believe in, the next question is : Is it interesting? Does it interest you? "Will it interest your audience? Next, will it speak''? Has it a style of such clearness, concreteness, movement and climax that it is adapted to public delivery? Many a splendid piece of literature is not adapted to delivery. Its sen- tences may be too involved ; its thought too subtle or too abstract, or it may leave too much to be inferred. Deliv- 452 PUBLIC SPEAKING ery may do much to supply the lacks, and it may be good practice at times to speak, for example, a selection cut from Emerson's essay on Self-Reliance, and do your best to make it clear and impressive. You do not necessarily wish a selection easy for your hearers ; make as great a demand upon their attention as you can successfully. But it is essential that you feel they are following you. Avoid mere eloquent iits, as perorations, which may have been great in their context, but which detached are mere generalities. These often come after long discus- sions* which made them highly significant to the original audiences; but alone they are almost meaningless. Be sure your selection in itself says some definite thing, in such terms that it will strike home. There are many examples to prove that a selection can, in the space of five hundred words, put an idea clearly, concretely and spe- cifically. See that your selection has coherence and unity. There are many in the declamation books which lack these qualities. There is one from a speech by Grady, entitled The Danger of Centralized Government, which has one paragraph on this theme and the rest on centralized wealth, without suggestion of connection between the two topics. If we are to treat selections as merely so many eloquent words, their use is certainly a wretched practice. You should seek a selection which is better than you can yourself produce ; one which you would wish to have written. It should contain a clear, strong thought, the expression of which will draw out your best powers. The selection should be couched in good language also. You cannot afford to become so intimate as yOu should with your selection, to make it a part of your own thought- stuff, unless it is thoroughly worthy, though it need not be a masterpiece. And your study will give it a most THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 453 severe test. In the process of analysis, assimilation and drill, every muddy thought, every weak joint, every ex- traneous idea, every inconsistency, will be detected. After a student has really found himself as a speaker, and in the process has found out his faults, it is often advisable to choose, not the selection which he can speak best, but one which will best serve to counteract some fault. Sometimes a very conversational selection will help a speaker who tends to be too oratorical. Sometimes one whose delivery is jerky is improved by a selection of unusual rhythm and smoothness. Again, a speaker of too great reserve is brought out by a selection which con- I tains a dramatic story. Methods of preparation. If the study and delivery of selections is to be profitable, the work must be thoroughly done by a sound method. There are few w^orse practices than the mere memorizing of words to ' ' spout ' ' with little regard for meaning. It is about as bad as the production of undigested stuff in '^cribbed," miscalled '^original," I speeches. The average person, reading over such a selection as Who Is to Blame, thinks he understands. Perhaps he does well enough for ordinary purposes; but mastery sufficient for adequate expression is quite another matter. And very often he confesses after longer study that his first understanding was quite shallow and erroneous. Nor is it enough to have a bare understanding, to know the meaning of every word, every sentence and every paragraph. There should be the most thorough study and analysis ; but yet more important is the assimilation which comes from relating the contents of the selection to one's own thought and experience. One may deliver a selection very correctly, and yet it may seem very empty, unless he assimilates its thought and emotion. The stu- 454 PUBLIC SPEAKING dent should draw out from his own experience, direct and indirect, many associations, illustrations, comparisons, and make many applications of the suggestions of the selections to familiar situations. By these means dead words may become living thought. That imagination will have a great part in this process will be readily un- derstood by those familiar with Chapters III and IV. The foundations for a sound method have been laid in those chapters and in Chapter XIII. I shall now gather up the suggestions applicable to the study of selections into a scheme of study. It should be noted, however, that many matters which should come up for considera- tion in the study of a given selection, cannot be indicated in a general scheme, and also that each student will be able, once started, to v/ork out other methods for himself. The use of such a scheme is a great advance over the usual haphazard study, for it makes study systematic and fruitful and it keeps attention upon a selection long enough to secure some degree of assimilation. There is no order necessarily best. Many processes will be carried on at once. The thought back of the ar- rangement below is that once having gained a general idea of the whole, we should then master the smaller de- tails, which are necessary to fully understanding the larger parts. And further, the more analytical work is put first, so that the more constructive work of the latter part may remove a too analytical mood before the worker reaches the stage of delivery. Scheme for the Study of a Selection ^ When this scheme is used as the basis for a written re- port, make references to your selection clear by giving line numbers, or otherwise. 1 This scheme is a free adaptatiou of Professor I). C. Lec*s leaf THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 455 1. Eead the selection silently until the main outlines are distinct in your mind. Try to concentrate your at- tention so that you can read through with no foreign ideas intruding. Do not read aloud at all, and do not speak the selection until you have mastered it. 2. Make sure you know the meaning of each word as here used, the significance of each name and allusion. (Do not make guesses ; look up all words you are not sure of and include your findings in your report.) 3. Indicate the parts which are echoes, restatements or amplifications of preceding parts, and what they echo, etc. 4. What contrasts do you find. 5. Indicate the new idea or ideas in each sentence. 6. "What is the chief idea in each sentence. 7. Give the last word of each phrase. 8. Note definitely the connection of sentence with sentence. Supply ellipses. Where can you make the meaning or the attitude clearer by adding such expres- sions as even, for example, in spite of, granting, etc.? 9. Be sure you realize the feeling of each part ; that is, whether it is explanatory, concessive, ironical, exclama- tory, triumphant, etc, 10. Where are the principal climaxes ? 11. Summarize each paragraph in one crisp sentence. Use your own words. If the paragraphing does not seem right to you, change. 12. State clearly the transitions in thought from para- graph to paragraph. 13. Summarize the whole selection in a single sentence as brief and simple as possible. * 14. Make an outline of the selection, being careful to let, How to Study a Declamation, which, was based upon Kirb^'s t^ublic Speaking and Reading. 456 PUBLIC SPEAKING make the relations of principal and subordinate ideas clear. 15. Work out the thought movement, or thought chain, in your own words. The statement should make clear the relation of paragraph to paragraph, sentence to sentence, contain each link of the thought and preserve the feeling and attitude of each part. 16. By means of what associations, illustrations, ex- amples, comparisons, drawn from experience, observation and study, do you add meaning, reality and interest to this selection ? 17. Exercise the imagination upon the selection. Describe the principal images which aid you in making the thought more intense, life-like and objective. 18. What is the dominant feeling, or the mood, of the selection ? 19. Take time to assimilate the selection. Dwell upon it, not listlessly, but with vigorous attention, until the thoughts grow clear and definite, the images vivid, and the feeling genuine. 20. Memorizing. Do not memorize the words before the content has been mastered. To memorize first is to put words before thought. When the above work has been carefully done, then go silently through the thought movement ; then, still silently, clothe these thoughts with the author's words. Then say the words aloud. Hold the thought clearly and vigorously in mind and try to express. Let the thought prompt the delivery. Do not at this stage think of making a speech; speak as to a single person. Gradually build up and strengthen to fit the needs of the platform, retaining all the time the es- sential conversational conditions: 1. Thinking at the moment of deliver^; 2. The sense of direct communica- tion. THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 457 21. Practice much, — always with wide-awake mind. Force your delivery to expressiveness by repeated trials, accentuating your consciousness of the meaning and en- tering more and more into the spirit of the selection. If you do not find the process of memorizing easy, it will probably be because the work of interpretation and assimilation has not been sufficiently well done. Profes- sor James has said that '^The art of remembering is the art of thinking; and when we wish to fix a new thing [in memory], our conscious effort should not be so much to impress and retain it as to connect it with something else already there. The connecting is the thinking/' Of course, in fixing the precise words, a definite effort to im- press and retain may be necessary ; although surprisingly little effort is needed for this when assimilation is thor- ough. If you have trouble in making your delivery expressive, the cause, again, is probably lack of assimilation. Go through the plan of study more carefully and the result will be better. Make the thought your thought, the words your words. Explanations and Illustrations. The numerals below correspond to those of the scheme of study. The illustrations are from Who's to Blame? 2. Unfortunately there is need of emphasis upon the truth that no intelligent man should permit himself to speak words he does not understand. Even common expressions, such as public dutt/y will bear consideration. What does poolroom mean, as used in the Curtis selection? Infidels? Intrigwe? Books of literary and historical references, biographical dictionaries and cyclopedias, such as are found in every library, will quickly clear up many obscure matters (See Chapter XI). A good dictionary should, of course, be found in every student's room. It should be explained here that Jonathan Wild stands for William M. Tweed ; but both Wild and Tweed should be looked up. What kind of men were Turpin and Diddler, and what do their names here signify? 3. This question can be answered conveniently in this manner : 458 PUBLIC SPEAKING In line 2, vote echoes voting, line 2. public duty, 1. 1. essentially, 1. 3. sentence 5. 3, political duty G, very heart Sentence 6, amplifies All the echoes, etc., which have any appreciable effect upon de- livery, should be put down, however formidable the array. 5 and 6. These may be conveniently answered in parallel col- umns. Use any way which reveals your understanding without waste of wwds. Use now the words of the text, and now trans- late. 7. The last word is given simply as an economical way of an- swering. 8. The expressions supplied are not to be spoken, unless they seem to improve the composition. The student will recall that this and most of the other questions are explained in Chapters III and XIII. In the Curtis selection imagine the questions and other re- sponses a man who thinks himself a good citizen might make, as, for example, after the third sentence, *'What should I do?" In speaking of the Pharisee, one gets the flavor of the allusion by thinking, **You remember the one in the parable of the two men who went up intr the temple to pray." (See Luke 18:10.) I do not mean that this necessarily takes the form of words as one speaks, but that something like it must lie in the "fringe of con- sciousness,'* if one is to catch the right turn ; for, notice, this is a particular Pharisee. At the end of Sentence 9 may be thought, "two grand rascals," or, "no choice at all." The difficulties of 10 are lessened by thinking, "what an absurdity !" and "Think of it, Diddler a reformer!" Sentence 14 is like this to me: "To say that in this country the rogues must rule [as you have saidl is to defy history [as I have just shown you] and [what is vastly more important to a genuine American] to despair of the Republic. [Don't you see what your defense amounts to?]" By holding in mind these unexpressed ideas one gets their effect in his voice. 11. Be sure you catch the essential rather than some incidental idea, and give the true point of view. Make your summaries crisp enough to carry easily in mind. Do not put here what belongs in Question 15. 12. This question is a severe test of understanding. Do not catch at some trivial link. In the Curtis selection, what question is raised in the first paragraph that is answered in the second? 13. In this selection the summary should turn on the question of Whose fault. 15. One preparing a selection should go over the thought, ex- pressing it very fully, several times. Pie should use his own w^ords THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 459 to make sure he is getting at the content, not merely the author's words. 16 and 17. We may illustrate further here what has been ex- plained in Chapters III and IV. The work of 10 and 17 is of the highest importance to assimilation. After gaining an understand- ing of the meaning of the words before you, you may proceed by a process not altogether unlike that you would have gone through had you written the selection yourself. The Curtis selection treats of political duty and political corruption. Our author refers to concrete instances and these form associations for the ideas ; but you are not limited to these. You have gone through political campaigns. First-hand knowledge is best. Then you have heard and read of politics local, state and national ; you have knowl- edge of conditions in various cities, New York, Philadelphia, San Francisco ; certain leaders and bosses are familiar from pictures and cartoons ; you know something of various reform movements, di- rect nominations, short ballots, commission form of city govern- ment, municipal leagues, and the like. All this you bring out of memory, or as much as has any bearing on your selection, and by means of it you begin to assimilate your speech. Very likely your knowledge is limited and vague. You can con- tinue your work by reading and by conversation with those who have more information and experience. As your selection refers to the Tweed regime in New York City, you will look that up especially. Some of the possible sources are the report prepared by Samuel J. Tilden, Myers's History of Tammany Hall, the second volume of Bryce's American Commonwealth, the tiles of the papers of the pe- riod (about 1872), say Harper's Weekly, then edited by George William Curtis and illustrated with Nast's famous Tammany car- toons. Accounts of later struggles in New York and in other ring-ruled cities will give a more present-day aspect to the subject. Make your work specific. It is of little use to go over things in the general way I have above. If the idea of direct nominations is to be of service, you must run it out far enough to see clearly how it affects the problem of "shaping the alternative." A general notion that there has been corruption in San Francisco will be of but the slightest value. The first sentence is very simple ; but what does public duty mean to you? Run this abstraction out into concrete details. To do so here would take undue space ; but I mean that this should be done very specifically, taking account of the responsibilities that rest upon a citizen of a republic, with special reference to the duty of selecting oflScials. You can see citizens going about their duties, rallying voters to the primaries, interviewing, writing letters, mak- ing speeches, forming clubs, or working in any other tangible ways. 460 PUBLIC SPEAKING You see also certain sleek self-satisfied citizens who do nothing but vote on election day. Plainly that is not enough ; not even if they take great pains to go and vote, as is the case with this man who goes all the way from New York to Chicago, leaving important business, just to vote. You may seem to see these men as real persons, men who know, or as typical citizens. Let them be tall or short, fat or lean, dressed so and so; that is, vividly con- ceived persons. You cannot see a smug look unless you see it on a face. Make your citizen look like a real man. You may seem to talk with them. To make the point clearer, you draw an analogy from the religious field, in which the evils of formalism are well recognized ; and you choose a familiar figure, the Pharisee of Luke xviii. Look this gentleman up, but do not catch the wrong suggestion. For us it is formalism, not hypocrisy. (In the last sentence of the selection we are more strongly im- pressed with the self-righteousness of the Pharisee.) *'But why do you call us political Pharisees?'* demand the indignant citizens. "Don't you see — the 'doubtful alternative'?" you explain. **You may have only a choice between two rascals, between John Doe, the paid tool of the public service corporations, and Richard Roe, the coarse grafter." "But what should we do?" ask the citizens. "Help choose the candidates, go to the primaries ; nay, go to work before the primaries, each doing something to secure at least one good candidate." And so on. This is only a hint of what may be done. It is not an attempt to say just what should come into your mind. Each mind will differ from all others. The scene about the polls is peculiarly open to the work of imagination. It is a little drama ; and most students fail to "get into" this part, because they do not go beyond matter-of-fact. Let us stand and watch near the polling place in a corrupt dis- trict. Banners bearing the party slogans are stretched across the street. Dodgers are thrust into our hands and we read, "Vote for Diddler and Reform !" A worker eagerly whispers to us, "Vote for good old honest Dick ! He is none of your sniveling reform- ers ; he won't interfere with the boys." Up an alley we see a worker bargaining for votes at two dollars apiece ; while down the street comes a dive-keeper with a drove of drunken loafers he has kept in his back room all night, — all out to vote for Diddler and reform. Our friend, the honest and respectable citizen, steps from his carriage on his way down town, intent on doing his full politi- cal duty. He seems a bit shocked at the sights and the men who greet him, — "plug uglies" with flashy clothes, tall hats, glass dia-| monds and long black cigars. Still, it is what he is used to ; he has ^ always left the "dirty work" of politics to "the boys." As he takes his ballot with a somewhat gingerly air, we hurl at him, "Don't forget your indifference is to blame for this shocking choice !" And THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 461 we quote mockingly, "Vote for *Turpm and honesty or, if you pre- fer, try 'Diddler and reform !' " The rest of the speech may be worked out as a trial, with an in- dictment, a plea, analysis of the evidence and final condemnation. Of course, this must not be pressed too far ; but it helps to bring out the thought movement. The last sentence is a good example of how imagination may help. Students usually rattle this off with- out discrimination of parts, and either indifferently or with mere loudness. Let the student put himself in the place of one who is out working to defeat the renomination of a grafting alderman. He goes to a friend to ask his help. But he finds his friend sit- ting before a cheerful fire reading, blissfully unconscious that there is anything to be done. Even when told, he is indifferent. '*Why so excited?" he asks. "Sit down and have a chat." Our worker urges and his friend is driven to excuses. He wraps his snobbish respectability about him and says it is no work for a gentleman. Pressed further, he begins to believe in his own excuses and, de- generating still further in his citizenship, he says, "I half believe this government is only the rule of a mob anyhow." Then quite convinced, he adds, "Between you and me, I hope we shall soon be rid of it ; what we want is a vigorous despot." A man of earnest purpose who found himself confronted by such a citizen would surely wish to kick him ; and that feeling is what the speaker needs. Use these, and any other means, of thinking and feeling yourself into the selection ; and you will find that what you may have thought you fully understood at first read- ing, will become vastly more significant. It may come to mean as much to you as to its author; indeed, it may mean more to you. He has furnished you with a sugges- tive form of words ; what their content shall be depends largely upon you, though you should not, of course, dis- • tort them from their normal meaning. I append here three selections which have been very severely tested in the class room. They present a consid- erable variety of style and of problems. A student who masters the delivery of these should be equal to anything. He will certainly find that he has 5:rown. But remember that the mere declaiming of them without assimilation will do harm. 46£ PUBLIC SPEAKING WHO IS TO BLAME? Prom The Public Duty of Educated Men, By George William Curtis 1 I. 1. Public duty in this country is not discharged, 2 as is often supposed, by voting. 2. A man may vote 3 regularly, and still fail essentially of his political 4 duty, as the Pharisee who gave tithes of all that he 5 possessed, and fasted three times in the week, yet 6 lacked the very heart of religion. 3. When an Amer- 7 ican citizen is content with voting merely, he con- 8 sents to accept what is often a doubtful alternative. 9 4. His first duty is to help shape the alternative. 5. 10 This, which was formerly less necessary, is now in- 11 dispensable. 6. In a rural community such as this 12 country was a hundred years ago, whoever was nomi- 13 nated for office was known to his neighbors, and the 14 consciousness of that knowledge was a conservative 15 influence in determining nominations. 7. But in the 16 local elections of the great cities of to-day, elections 17 that control taxation and expenditure, the mass of 18 the voters vote in absolute ignorance of the candi- 19 dates. 8. The citizen who supposes that he does all 20 his duty when he votes, places a premium upon po- 21 litical knavery. 9. Thieves welcome him to the polls 22 and offer him a choice, which he has done nothing 23 to prevent, between Jeremy Diddler and Dick Tur- 24 pin. 10. The party cries, for which he is responsi- 25 ble, are ''Turpin and Honesty!'' ''Diddler and Re- 26 form!" 11. And within a few years, as a result of 27 this indifference to the details of public duty, the most 28 powerful politician in the Empire State of the Union 29 was Jonathan Wild the Great, the captain of a ban(? 30 of plunderers. 12. I know it is said that the knaves 31 have taken the honest men in a net, and have con- 32 trived machinery which will inevitably grind only 33 the grist of rascals. 13. The answer is, that when 34 honest men did ce what they ought to do always, 35 the thieves were netted and their machine was 36 broken. 14. To Sc / that in this country the rogues THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 463 37 must rule, is to defy history and to despair of the 38 republic. 39 II. 15. If ignorance and corruption and intrigue 40 control the primary meeting, and manage the conven- 41 tion, and dictate the nomination, the fault is in the 42 honest and intelligent workshop and office, in the 43 library and the parlor, in the church and the school. 44 16. When they are as constant and faithful to their 45 political rights as the slums and the grogshops, the 46 pool-rooms and the kennels; when the educated, in- 47 dustrious, temperate, thrifty citizens are as zealous 48 and prompt and unfailing in political activity as the 49 ignorant and venal and mischievous, or when it is 50 plain that they cannot be roused to their duty, then, 51 but not until then — if ignorance and corruption al- 52 ways carry the day — there can be no honest question 53 that the republic has failed. 17. But let us not be 54 deceived. 18. While good men sit at home, not know- 55 ing that there is anything to be done, nor caring to 56 know; cultivating a feeling that politics are tiresome 57 and dirty, and politicians, vulgar bullies and bravoes 58 half persuaded that a republic is the contemptible 59 rule of a mob, and secretly longing for a splendid and 60 vigorous despotism — then remember, it is not a gov- 61 ernment mastered by ignorance, it is a government 62 betrayed by intelligence ; it is not the victory of the 63 slums, it is the surrender of the schools; it is not 64 that bad men are brave, but that good men are infi- 65 dels and cowards. A LIBERAL EDUCATION ^ From Lay Sermons, Addresses, and Revieics, by Thomas Huxley 1 I. 1. Suppose it were perfectly certain that the life 2 and fortune of every one of us would, one day or 3 other, depend upon his winning or losing a game at 4 chess. 2. Don't you think we should all consider it 1 This selection as a whole is not unified. It is best used as two selections. The first three paragraphs form one unit and the remaining two another. 464 PUBLIC SPEAKING 5 a primary duty to learn at least the names and the 6 moves of the pieces; to have a notion of a gambit, 7 and a keen eye for all the means of giving and get- 8 ting out of a cheek ? 3. Do you not think we should 9 look with a disapprobation amounting to scorn, upon 10 a father who allowed his son, or the state which al- 11 lowed its members, to grow up without knowing a 12 pawn from a knight? 13 II. 4. Yet it is a very plain and elementary truth, 14 that the life, that the fortune, and the happiness of 15 every one of us, and, more or less, of those who are 16 connected with us, do depend upon our knowing 17 something of the rules of a game infinitely more diffi- 18 cult and complicated than chess. 5. It is a game 19 which has been played for untold ages, every man 20 and woman of us being one of the two players in a 21 game of his or her own. 6. The chess-board is the 22 world, the pieces are the phenomena of the universe, 23 the rules of the game are what we call the laws of 24 Nature. 7. The player on the other side is hidden 25 from us. 8. We know that his play is always fair, 26 just and patient. 9. But also we know, to our cost, 27 that he never overlooks a mistake, or makes the small- 28 est allowance for ignorance. 10. To the man who 29 plays well, the highest stakes are paid, with that sort 30 of overflowing generosity with which the strong shows 31 delight in strength. 11. And one who plays ill is 32 checkmated — without haste, but without remorse. 33 III. 12. Well, what I mean by Education is learn- 34 ing the rules of this mighty game. 13. In other 35 words, education is the instruction of the intellect in 36 the laws of Nature, under which name I include not 37 merely things and their forces, but men and their 38 ways ; and the fashioning of the affections and of the 39 will into an earnest and loving desire to move in har- 40 mony with those laws. 41 IV. 14. That man, I think, has a liberal educa- 42 tion, who has been so trained in his youth that his 43 body is the ready servant of his will, and does with 44 ease and pleasure all the work that, as a mechanism, THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 465 45 it is capable of; whose intellect is a clear, cold, logic 46 engine, with all its parts of equal strength, and in 47 smooth working order ; ready, like a steam engine, to 48 be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gos- 49 samers as well as forge the anchors of the mind; 50 whose mind is stored with a knowledge of the great 51 and fundamental truths of Nature and of the laws of 52 her operations; one who, no stunted ascetic, is full 53 of life and fire, but whose passions are trained to 54 come to heel by a vigorous will, the servant of a ten- 55 der conscience; who has learned to love all beauty, 56 whether of nature or of art, to hate all vileness, and 57 to respect others as himself. 58 V. 15. Such an one, and no other, I conceive, has 59 had a liberal education ; for he is, as completely as a 60 man can be, in harmony with Nature. 16. He will 61 make the best of her, and she of him. 17. They will 62 get on together rarely; she as his ever beneficent 63 mother ; he as her mouthpiece, her conscious self, her 64 minister and interpreter. AWAIT THE ISSUE Adapted from Carlyle's Past and Present 1 I. In this God's-world, with its wild, whirling ed- 2 dies and mad, foam oceans, where men and nations 3 perish as if without law, and judgment for an unjust 4 thing is sternly delayed, dost thou think that there is 5 therefore no justice ? It is what the fool hath said in 6 his heart. It is what the wise, in all times, w^ere wise 7 because they denied and knew forever not to be. I 8 tell thee there is nothing else but justice. One strong 9 thing I find here below: the just thing, the true thing. 10 II. My friend, if thou hadst all the artillery of 11 Woolwich trundling at thy back in support of an un- 12 just thing, and infinite bonfires visibly waiting ahead 13 of thee to blaze centuries long for the victory on be- 14 half of it, I would advise thee to call halt, to fling 15 down thy baton and say, ^^In heaven's name, no 16 III. Thy ''success"? Poor devil, what will thy 466 PUBLIC SPEAKING 17 success amount to ? If the thing is unjust, thou htist 18 not succeeded; no, not though bonfires blazed from 19 north to south, and bells rang, and editors wrote lead- 20 ing articles, and the just things lay trampled out of 21 sight, — to all mortal eyes an abolished and annihilated 22 thing. . . . 23 IV. For it is the right and noble alone that will 24 have victory in this struggle; the rest is wholly an 25 obstruction, a postponement, a fearful imperilment, 26 of the victory. Towards an eternal center of right 27 and nobleness, and of that only, is all confusion tend- 28 ing. We already know whither it is all tending ; what 29 will have victory, what will have none ! The heaviest 30 will reach the center. The heaviest has its deflec- 31 tions ; its obstructions ; nay, at times its resiliences, its 32 reboundings, whereupon some blockhead shall be 33 heard jubilating, ^^See, your heaviest ascends!'' but 34 at all moments it is moving centerward, fast as is 35 convenient for it; sinking, sinking; and, by laws 36 older than the world, old as the Maker's first plan of 37 the world, it has to arrive there. 38 V. Await the issue. In all battles, if you await 39 the issue, each fighter has prospered according to his 40 right. His right and his might, at the close of the 41 account, were one and the same. He has fought with 42 all his might, and in exact proportion to all his right he 43 has prevailed. His very death is no victory over him. 44 He dies indeed; but his work lives, very truly lives. 45 VI. An heroic Wallace, quartered on the scaf- 46 fold, cannot hinder that his Scotland become, one 47 day, a part of England; but he does hinder that it 48 become, on tyrannous terms, a part of it; commands 49 still, as with a god 's voice, from his old Valhalla and 50 Temple of the brave, that there be a just, real union 51 as of brother and brother, not a false and merely 52 semblant one as of slave and master. If the union 53 with England be in fact one of Scotland's chief 54 blessings, we thank Wallace withal that it was not 55 the chief curse. . . . 56 VII. Fight on, thou brave, true heart ; and falter THE STUDY OF SELECTIONS 467 57 not, through dark fortune and through bright. The 58 cause thou tightest for, so far as it is true, no further, 59 yet precisely so far, is very sure of victory. The 60 falsehood alone of it will be conquered, will be abol- 61 ished, as it ought to be; but the truth of it is part 62 of Nature's own laws, cooperates with the world's 63 eternal tendencies, and cannot be conquered. I CHAPTER XV GESTURE The term gesture is broad enough to cover every action and posture expressive of thought or feeling. It suggests action and we usually think of gesture as movement, especially of hands and arms ; but good usage will justify the above statement. We cannot, furthermore, limit our- selves to actions which are intended to express an idea or a passion"; for we are concerned with all expression, whether intentional or not. But taking gesture in the more usual sense of action intended to express ideas and feelings, Why should the speaker gesture ? ^"^ Gesture is an important means of expression. A speaker who is full of his subject and has a great deal to express will feel the need of every means of expressing himself. Any man who eagerly desires to communicate his ideas and feelings, knows the inadequacy of language. This is not to imply that gesture is the resource only of those exceedingly serious over a great message. Any one eager to convey an impression, though it be of the light- est nature, feels the need of action. We find, too, that although its range is more limited, gesture is often a quicker, plainer and stronger means of expression than spoken words, for its appeal is to the eye. A motion toward the door, a shrug, a lifted eye- brow, — what words can equal these gestures? Gesture, within its limitations, is an unmistakable language, and 468 GESTURE 469 is understood by men of all races and tongues. Even a dog understands some gestures. Gesture is our most instinctive language; at least it goes back to the begin- ning of all communication when the race, still lacking articulate speech, could express only through the tones of inarticulate sounds and through movements. And be- cause it is so deeply imbedded in our primitive reactions, all men express themselves by gesture and all men under- stand gesture. Gesture is particularly adapted to the expression of feeling. The degree of the speaker's earnestness, his at- titude toward the idea presented, whether he accounts it trivial or important, acceptable or objectionable, pleas- ing or disgusting, uplifting or debasing, whether he is eager or conservative, mocking or serious, — all these and many other attitudes and feelings the speaker reveals by posture, action and facial expression. Gesture is used also, but less frequently, to express cold fact and ideas apart from feeling; as, that the statue was so high, or that there are two opposing principles. Its use for this purpose is obviously limited. In narration and descrip- tion action is much used ; but usually in these there is strong emotional coloring. Words have developed along j with ideas, and generally speaking, are the clearest ex- \ pression of them. Emotions are more primitive than \ ideas. Primitive man had little to express besides his likes and his dislikes, his joy and his sorrow, his fear and his triumph. \ Darwin and others have traced the origin of our familiar ges- tures, in many instances, to "serviceable associated habits'* de- veloped by our early ancestors. Thus, i *'the snarl or sneer, the one-sided uncovering of the upper teeth, is accounted for by Darwin as a survival from the time when our ancestors had larire canines, and unfleshed them (as dogs do now) for attack." Very likely 1 James, Briefer Course^ p. 388, 470 PUBLIC SPEAKING some of the attempted explanations of particular actions are far- fetched ; but the general thought is suggestive. We can readily understand how among the natural indications of aggressive de- termination are a jaw set and protruding and clenched fists. 1 " Another principle . . . may be called the principle of re- acting similarly to analogous- feeling stimuli. . . . As soon as any experience arises which has an affinity with the feeling of sweet, or sour, or bitter, the same movements are executed which would result from the taste in point. . . . Disgust is an incip- ient . . . retching, limiting its expressions often to the grimace of lips and nose ; satisfaction goes with a sucking smile, or tasting motion of the lips. The ordinary gesture of negation^ — among us, moving the head about its axis from side to side — is a reaction originally used by babies to keep disagreeables from getting into their mouth, and may be observed in perfection in any nursery." 2 'Primitive language was largely a gesture-language. Since the spoken words gave only a partial account of the event de- scribed, they were eked out by movements of hand or feature. And foremost among these movements were the movements that correspond to the metaphor. The successful hunter actually licked his lips, and seemed to suck a sweet morsel ; the unsuccess- ful drew his lips sideways, as if he were trying to taste as little as possible of his sour draught. "Now we begin to see where the argument is taking us. Cer- tain processes in the emotion . . . suggest a metaphor, by simul- taneous association ; and the metaphor brings a movement with it. As language develops, the metaphor is lost : it is no longer necessary. But the movement persists. When the emotion comes, the movement comes with it. The movement survives, partly be- cause of its intrinsic fitness to communicate to others a knowl- edge of our emotion, and partly because gesture cannot change as language can." We have many gestures that exhibit the metaphorical character ; as, the wide-flung hands expressive of welcome or liberality, the tossing motion expressive of carelessness, the palm thrust forward expressive of repelling, the up- lifted hand expressive, in various positions, of nobility, aspiration, or reverence. I have gone so far in considering the origin of ex- pressive action, not only to show how broad and universal is its appeal, but also to prepare the way for the second and chief reason for gesturing ; and that is — The speaker needs gesture to free him from restraint 1 James, Psychology: Briefer Course, p. 389. 2 Titchener, Primer of Psychology, p. 148. GESTURE 471 and bring him into a normal condition on the platform. More and more this reason impresses me as a teacher. Students never find themselves as speakers, never escape the bonds of restraint, never become really direct and communicative, until they gesture. It is unnatural not to gesture in any wide-awake discourse. Any real speaker would be in distress if compelled to restrain gesture. One might as well run a race with one's hands tied. We begin to use gesture in earliest infancy. Chil- dren gesture a great deal. That they gesture less as they grow older is due in part to constant checking. Their gestures knock over bric-a-brac, and ^'Don't!'' is heard from morn till night. Habits of restraint are formed. We learn that it is not best to express every thought and feeling that comes. But we never cease to use gesture; not even the more noticeable motions of hands and arms. It is amusing to be told by students that they do not gesture in conversation. Contradict them and force them to strong assertion, and they never fail to make a vigorous movement to enforce their denial. One student repeated this gesture three times in succes- sion, though consciously trying to restrain the action and laughing at himself for his absurdity. Every man makes innumerable movements, and these increase as he warms up in his talk. And this brings us to a third reason for gesturing. We are bound to gesture whether we will or no ; if not well, then ill. If we are alive to our work, the im- pulse to action will be present and will show itself some- how; in uneasy twitchings, starts of the hands, restless shifting of feet and position, or fumbling with clothing. Repression will show itself in rigidity. All this may itself be called gesture ; for all appeals to the eyes of the audience, and seems to cry aloud, ''See how repressed, 472 PUBLIC SPEAKING how nervous, how awkward I am!" It is much better to give rein to the natural impulses and use the hands to emphasize thought than to examine the edge of one's coat or to hitch up one 's trousers. True, the hands may- be stuck in one's pockets or held in leash at the back; but these are not attitudes always becoming to young speakers, to say nothing of the loss of expression and freedom. Besides, hands and arms are only one part of gesture. To suppress gesture is to suppress feeling. We have been assuming a speaker alive to his task, really trying to express. But it is doubtful if a speaker can remain in that condition long, if he repress gesture. Gripping one's chair is a familiar device for keeping cool. As we learned in Chapter V, repression of feeling is often the death of feeling; gestural expression will heighten or even produce the appropriate feeling. The following is by a writer not committed to the James-Lange theory of emotion : ^^'When Deerslayer caught the tomahawk hurled at him, 4iis hand was raised above and behind his own head, and in the very attitude necessary to return the attack. It is not certain' — notice the sentence — * whether the circumstance of finding himself in this menacing posture and armed tempted the young man to retaliate, or whether sudden resentment overcame his forbearance and prudence. ' Cooper has realized the un- doubted fact that, given the attitude, the emotion might come of itself." Try this: Assert to a friend, real or imaginary, some simple fact, just saying, This is a fact. Say it again with an emphatic stroke of the hand. Say it again, with much abandon, banging your desk vigorously with your first. iTitchener, Primer, p. 146. GESTURE 47S The impulse to gesture. From what has been said it should be clear that gesture should spring from impulse, and not be mere mechanical motions made by rule or imitation. It should be real expression, — outward re- sponse to inner impulse. All ideas and all feelings are motor. If we center our attention upon the ideas of our speech and if we are in the spirit of what we are saying, we shall have impulses to action. And if our attention centers most strongly upon major points, our gesture impulses will be strongest at those points; and the anxious question of the beginner, Where shall I ges- ture?'' will be answered. Gesture being in its nature emphatic, since it is an added means of expression, should mark only ideas worthy of emphasis. If we were perfectly normal beings, this might be al- most enough to say on the subject. But we are not normal. There is habitual restraint and repression. We have habits of making a few, limited movements ) and we say others do not ' ' feel natural. ' ' We are restrained by self -consciousness. We may be stiff and awkward off the platform, and more so on the platform. Hence some training becomes necessary, in order that the impulse to gesture may have a fair chance ; and later it may be de- sirable, after freedom has been gained, to somewhat prune the natural action. First stage of gesture training. Gesture training should not be hurried, and the first stage should be limited to gaining freedom and responsiveness to the impulses. As a first step, just try to stop restraining yourself. Don't stick your hands in your pockets or be- hind your back; for this has the effect of tying them up. Let them hang freely at your sides. To be free re- quires that there be no nervous clutching, no doubling 474 PUBLIC SPEAKING up, no fussing with clothing, no rigid holding at the sides. The hands should swing as loosely as when you are walk- ing. Then speak something of a vigorous character, ex- temporized or memorized, your own ideas or a bit from a selection. Let yourself go ; try hard to express the idea to your imaginary audience. If you can get away from self-consciousness, something will happen in the way of gesture. This something may consist of very queer motions. Never mind; encourage them, and go on talk- ing in an exaggerated way. If nothing comes of it, lift your hand up with a free movement from the shoulder and speak a vigorous paragraph without taking it down. It will be strange indeed if your hand does not do some- thing. Do not try to make it do anything in particular. Trust your muscles ; they know more about gesture than you do ! Poise. Gesture is often checked by the restrained position in which one stands. It is important to stand in good poise. To be poised is to stand easily erect, without limpness or slouchiness and without waste of muscular effort. The chin is neither thrust forward nor drawn in, the chest is active, up, alive (whatever term you please), the hips thrust neither forward nor back- ward, the weight borne directly over the hips and all resting on the balls of the feet. The weight may be borne on both feet or on either foot ; but there must be no sagging in either hip. The feet should not ordinarily be held together, or on a line, nor yet far apart. In this position it is possible to transfer weight from one foot to the other without effort ; hence one is free to step or turn easily in either direction, without walking over one's self.'' And this freedom is of first-class importance to good action. Free body action. Gesture is much more than move- GESTURE 47^ ments of hands and arms; the simplest gesture affects the whole body, and one of the chief causes of awkward- ness, stiffness and the put-on" effect, is failure of the body to yield so as to produce harmonious action. More- over, if the body is not free to turn, if the feet are fastened to the floor, the speaker as he turns to various parts of his audience, will get into twisted attitudes, which are not only awkward but give him a feeling of restraint. There is a constant need of adjustment by changing the position of the feet and shifting weight. These movements are usually very slight and are uncon- scious when one is poised. They are only the natural movements which belong to good bearing off the plat- form. Without them a speaker is likely to fall into the swing of a torsion pendulum ; or if he does not turn his body at all, his head will move like an advertising au- tomaton in a show window. Another bad result of having one 's feet metaphorically bolted to the floor is that of facing most of the time in one direction; owing to the fact that a turn without foot adjustment puts a twist in the knee joints which one unconsciously relieves by quickly turning back. And as a speaker who stands ^stock still usually has a favorite position for his feet, he is liable to acquire the habit of looking at one side of his audience, with mere glances at the rest. The chest is a point of great importance to poise and free action. One should feel it as the center of energy. This gives a feeling of buoyancy and easy strength which is most helpful to the gesture impulse. One is not likely to feel like gesturing when in a sagging or awkward position. Certain exercises will be helpful in gaining the poise, freedom and coordinated action needed. These may be, 476 PUBLIC SPEAKING and usually are, very silly movements in themselves; but so are the exercises that musicians or athletes go through in preparation, or the setting-up ' ' exercises of military drill. But anything that is needed is not silly. The exercises described below should be practised per- sistently ; for it cannot be expected that a little practice will overcome the habits of a life-time. Practise them with the room filled with fresh air, and they will be found restful after hard study. There should be no misunderstanding about these exercises. They are not gestures and any practice upon a handy set'' of motions as gestures would be vicious. These exercises are simply to aid in gaining ease, free- dom and responsiveness to impulse, and in breaking up set habits, such as making one or two movements monoto- nously ; and in making all natural motions seem natural. A very great variety of movement is possible, and the greatest possible variety of movement should be prac- tised. The student can readily add to the exercises here given, after these have been mastered.^ Work out the exercises as you read. They will not then prove to be so complicated as they may at first ap- pear. Go through them deliberately, with your mind on what you are doing; and repeat each exercise several times. Do the exercises twice a day for a long period. Exercises for Poise 1. Sit in an armless chair of fair height, without touching the back, with head erect, feet resting easily but squarely on the floor, arms relaxed in the lap, and 1 The exercises in this chapter which are "set solid," and those in the chapter on Voice Training, are by my colleague, Pro- fessor G. R. Muchmore. He wishes it stated that most of them are drawn from his work at the School of Expression, Boston; but that since he has set down but a portion of those used in that school, has added some, and has modified others as a result of his college teaching, he does not wish by this acknowledgment to make Dr. Curry responsible for this production. GESTURE 477 the chest expanded but not strained. (Expansion should be in all directions ; not merely forward with con- traction at the back.) Move gently forward and back and from side to side, until the position is found in which the body seems to remain erect with the slightest effort. This may take repeated trials. 2. Keeping the feeling of poise gained in Exercise 1, stand easily erect, with the heels together, letting the toes find a comfortable position with the weight well for- ward on the balls of the feet. Focus the attention at the notch of the sternum and slowly rise on the toes, and at the same time lift the arms to a lateral horizontal position ; sustain until there is something of the feeling of lightness one has when up to the arm pits in water; then return slowly to the former position, keeping the weight well under control. Do not push the hips for- ward or let the body rest back on the heels. 3. Take the position described in Exercise 2 and slowly move toward the right until the weight is wholly on one foot and the other foot rests lightly on the floor. Place the free foot as far as possible to the left without disturbing the body or stiffening the leg, then slowly move the body toward the free foot until the weight is well over it, and it has become the supporting or strong" foot. Place the free foot forward and slowly move the weight forward over it. Place the foot now free to the side and move the weight over it; move the foot now free back, and transfer the weight. The move- ment can now be made in any direction. Exercises for Eelaxation 4. Whole body. Stand erect and let the head sink forward on the chest ; then let the shoulders droop, and the arms, hang limp. Now slowly fold the spine from the top downward, being sure that the head leads at all times. Do not bend the knees or strain the muscles of the legs. Unfold the body, being sure that the move- ment begins at the hips, that the head follows, and that the arms and shoulders come gradually into the normal position. 478 PUBLIC SPEAKING If these directions are followed, the head will be the last part of the body to assume an erect position. Faults to be avoided in the execution of this exercise are, in folding, a hinge movement at the hips with a straight back, and, in the unfolding movement, cramping the neck and lifting the shoulders, thereby making it neces- sary to let them drop at the completion of the exercise. 5. Jaw. Standing or sitting erect, let the head drop forward on the chest as if asleep ; relax the jaw, tongue, eyelids and facial muscles. Focus the attention at the base of the neck behind, being sure that there is no un- necessary muscular exertion, and slowly lift the head to a normal position, — the mouth at this point should be open at least an inch, — then let the head back as far as possible, then bring it forward to an erect position. 6. Neck, From the forward position of the head de- scribed in Exercise 5, slowly roll the head around, de- scribing as large a circle as possible. Keep the face forward ; see that neck muscles not necessarily used are relaxed ; and that the pivotal point is at the base of the neck. Repeat in the reverse direction. 7. Arms, a. Stand erect, with the weight forward, arms lifted straight to the front, palms down. Let the arms fall lifelessly to the side and swing as a result of their own momentum. 6. Place the arms parallel above the head with the palms in, and let them fall. c. Extend the arms to a lateral horizontal position, and let them fall lifelessly. d. Place the arms as in c; let the fingers relax, then the forearm, bending at the elbow, then the upper arm. e. Reverse c?, beginning by lifting the shoulders slightly. Energize the muscles of the upper arm, with the forearm pendent; energize the muscles of the fore- arm, then of the wrist, and lastly of the fingers. 8. Wrists, a. With the upper arms at the side, fore- arms lifted at right angles and palms down, shake the forearms in such a way that the hands move freely at the wrist joints. GESTURE 479 6. Repeat with the palms up. 9. Fingers. Grasp the left hand with the right by placing the thumb of the right hand in the palm of the left and the fingers on the back; shake the left hand until the fingers and thumb move limply at their base. Reverse the hands and repeat. 10. Legs. a. Stand well poised on one foot on the edge of a platform or a step and let the other foot hang over the edge until it is felt as a dead weight ; then lifting it forward let it fall and swing with its own momentum. Do not allow the body to slump on the hip of the strong side. 6. Stand on the floor with the weight on one foot and lift the free foot forward w^ith the lower leg dangling from the knee, then let it drop; lift the leg to the side and let it drop ; back, and let it drop ; across the strong leg in front, and let it drop. Exercises for Coordination 11. a. Standing with the weight on one foot, place the free foot at the side, and the arm of the same side across the body till the finger tips touch the opposite shoulder ; then simultaneously unfold the arm to a lateral horizon- tal position and cross the strong foot with the free foot. Reverse and repeat. &. To Exercise a add a pivotal action of the head from side to side in the direction that corresponds to the move- ment of the foot and in opposition to that of the arm. 12. Stand with the weight on one foot, arms lifted and the tips of the fingers touching the chest. Step firmly forward and at the same time unfold the arms to a lateral horizonal position. Carry this unfolding movement out to the very tips of the fingers and see that the body is well supported on the forward foot. Repeat, starting with the weight on the other foot. Repeat, unfolding the arms at an angle of about for- ty-five degrees from the horizontal. 13. a. Group the four fingers of the hand closely about the thumb and slowl}^ unfold the fingers, initiating the 480 PUBLIC SPEAKING movement at the center of the palm. See that all fin- gers are moving in opposition to the thumb, continuously and simultaneously, and at about equal distances, until the whole hand is completely expanded. Do not lay the thumb back in a plane with the palm. 6. From this expanded condition, slowly close the haild, this time initiating the action at the tips of the fingers, until they group again about the thumb. The fingers should not be stiff or cramped at any time. 14. a. Stand well erect, slightly forward on the right foot, stretch the right arm forward and describe with the hand a figure eight lying on its side. Move the hand in the direction indicated by the arrows in the accom- panying cut. Let the movement be initiated largely at the shoulder. Do not exaggerate the sway of the body too much, but let it respond easily to the movement of the arm, the extent to which the body moves depending mainly on the size of the figure described. Kepeat with the left arm; then with both arms; then with the arms moving in opposition to each other. Make the figure now large and now small. 6. Repeat the figure with the arms extended laterally, first with either arm, and then with both arms. c. Repeat occasionally with the movement in opposi- tion to the arrows. 15. a. Stand with the weight on the left foot and place the right foot slightly forward in a relaxed condition; focus the eyes on a definite point to the right, turn the head till it faces in the same direction; place the right foot slightly behind the left and transfer the weight back on it, and at the same time relax the left, which should be allowed to adjust itself. Do not lift it. The eyes, head, body and feet should now face directly toward the point first selected. 1), With the weight on the right foot back^ turn the GESTURE 481 eyes to the right to a definite point, then the head ; turn the left heel out by pivoting on the ball of the foot, and immediately follow this action by transferring the weight to the left foot. Let the right foot adjust itself. Kepeat a and & alternately until a complete circle has been made ; then reverse. c. With the weight on the left foot back, turn the eyes to the right, and then the head, and step forward by replacing the right foot. d. With the weight on the right foot forward, look to the left, turn the head, and step forward to the left. Movement may now be made from any position in any direction. These exercises should be practised until great facility in moving in any direction is attained. Second stage of gesture training. We will now assume that the student of gesture has had his first experience and to some degree gotten over his self-consciousness, so that he can make a movement without stopping his mental processes; that he has gained some poise and re- sponsiveness. This may take him some weeks. We may now proceed to more definite work which would not have been safe at first. First, you may question yourself a bit: Do your gestures express something? Does your hand feel it is talking to the audience ? Does it seem to say. Note this point in particular; or, This is of little account; or. This is displeasing; or. This is fundamental; This is noble, inspiring; Put this idea from you? These and many other things your action can say and you should begin to feel it is speaking. Try now to express shades of meaning. Say with your hands: This is a fact. This is a fact, but I am indif- ferent to it. This is a fact; make what you can of it. This is a fact and you must accept it. Work in all sorts of moods and mental attitudes. You can easily gather a 482 PUBLIC SPEAKING collection of varied sentences. Or you can find them in numerous texts. Turn to the selection, Who is to Blame (see end of Chapter XIV. I assume that the selection has been studied before this stage of gesture work is taken up). Try to express the subtle difference between taking the words '^a man may vote regularly/' as expressing a con- tempt for voting, or as asserting that even regular voting is not enough. Try to express with your hand the idea that your hearers are all familiar with the Pharisee story. At line 14 try to express the underlying, Don't you see how it works ? In lines 54-60 try to suggest, first the in- difference, then the snobbish aloofness, then the positive but secret determination ; and then in the lines which fol- low, drive home the sweeping denunciation. These are but a few of the suggestions that might be made for this selection. Keep on at the effort to express one idea or feeling till you conquer it. Depend upon vivid conception, rather than upon planning particular movements. Get before a big mirror and learn from ^'the only honest man." Do not be afraid of the sneer at the ^booking-glass orator." What might be absurd in an experienced speaker is not necessarily so in a beginner. Besides, I am not asking you to practise the gestures of a speech you are to deliver. At first your problem was to do something, to throw off restraint. Now you must be- come acquainted with yourself and see what you are doing. Self-consciousness is bad, but it is best to settle some things once for all, rather than to carry indefinitely an uneasy consciousness of awkwardness and mannerism. All the time you should keep up practice for freedom of action. This, with a developed feeling that you are talk- ing-through your gesture and a knowledge that your GESTURE 48S gestures are not noticeable as gestures, because of stiff- ness or weakness or superfluous movements, will soon bring you out of self-consciousness. It is usually im- possible to improve in any respect without an unpleasant stage of self-consciousness. Some rather fanciful gestures may be useful in train- ing your muscles. Follow with eye and hand the flight of a bird which darts about in a large auditorium and at last escapes through an open window. Follow in the same way the course of a troop of cavalry which is charging over broken ground, now out of sight, now re- appearing, and now dashing against the enemy. Count fifty, letting every fifth numeral stand in your mipd for a distinct idea which you try to express by gesture. Speak the whole of the first paragraph of Who is to Blame, keeping at least one hand up all the time. This is only an exercise, of course; such a direction for real speaking would be indefensible. Still you should have the paragraph thoroughly at command and speak it with as much meaning as you can. Third stage of gesture training. When one has reached the stage where he feels that he is really expressing through action, and only then, he may venture to seek improvement by a somewhat closer examination of the mechanism of gesture. Observe, first, that the hand, when sustained in the air, need not be making motions all the time, though it should not be limp. At the side the hand should be free from all impulses ; but when up it should be ready for action. After the stroke of a gesture the hand often remains at rest, holding attention to the thought presented, until at the end of the pause the next idea is taken up. This will be true generally where the thought is positive or deliberative. But where one does not wish to hold attention to the idea, as where 484 PUBLIC SPEAKING it is waved aside as unimportant, there is no appreciable rest. When the gesture is finished in any case, the hand should drop or pass into the preparation for a new ges- ture without attracting further attention. To avoid attracting attention to the way your hand comes down, let it fall before or after a pause, not in the pause. The way to get away from a finished gesture, is to forget it ; and the way to forget it is to think of the next point. It helps the beginner to turn to another part of the audience, as it is nearly always proper to do. A slight turn, after the pause and just as you begin the next phrase, will take your attention and the attention of your audience off the gesture, and your hands will come down without either stiffness or floppiness. This suggests an answer to a question which beginners often ask : How shall I respond to the natural impulse at many points in a speech to step forward, and yet not walk off the platform? There is no real danger of step- ping off ; but it is not pleasant for the audience to see a speaker leaning over or pacing back and forth on the very edge. A man of good bearing can easily step back while speaking, but he rarely has to give the matter attention. Being free in his movements, his feet adjust themselves under him as he turns from side to side. These move- ments may carry him forward or backward. The drop- ping back of one foot after the other may carry him back a considerable distance in a single sentence, yet no one notices. Ordinarily these adjustments are slight, and the beginner must not suppose that he should be con- stantly moving about. Often the first freedom shows itself in restless movements, which make the observer want to cry out, ' ' Stand still ! ' ' But there are usually many places where a wide-awake speaker will have a true impulse to move forward; as GESTURE 485 where the thought is particularly positive and direct. Such movements are themselves expressive gestures. At times the speaker steps toward the right or the left side of his audience; perhaps as he takes up a new point. Such a movement may help a speaker to get away from a completed climax, or a certain feeling or attitude, even from a high pitch, of voice. The change helps in getting a new start, nearer the colloquial; and relieves both speaker and audience from the tiresome effect produced by one who stands stock-still. Try these exercises: Stand facing left with right arm extended to the left; turn to right letting the arm turn with the body. Again, same position, swing arm alone to right. Stand facing right with right arm ex- tended right ; turn to left leaving arm unmoved. Stand facing left with both arms extended left; turn to right leaving left arm unmoved and letting right arm swing with body. Put in no strokes with hands at all, but let them freely open. Note the large sweeping character of these movements. Turn the last into a real gesture with the words : ' * My friends, we must all face this problem together." Be sure to let your eyes sweep over the whole of your imaginary audience. Here are a few more questions by means of which you can criticize yourself : Do your arms swing from the shoulder ? Are your elbows free from your sides ? Does every joint from shoulder to finger tip have a part in your gesture? Do your linger tips describe curves, rather than make angles or thrusts? Does your body respond by moving now with, now from the hand? Do you in moving forward, backward, or sideways with a gesture, really respond from head to foot, rather than tip and twist with your feet stuck to the floor? Does your bodily response prevent straining of your arms 486 PUBLIC SPEAKING backward? Do your arms swing freely into all ranges, high and low? Do they at times swing high in prepa- ration ? Do they start soon enough to permit a free, full motion? Do your gestures, generally, freely reveal the opened palms? (Do not try to hold the fingers in any position, and especially do not hold the thumb down.) Do your hands sometimes take a prone position? Can you straighten your arm and open your hand at the finish of a gesture without a jerk or stab ? Is the stroke of your gesture finished on the accented syllable of the emphatic word? Do your gestures disappear without flourish, doubling of the fist, or any other motion which catches the eye? Do you avoid stepping one foot over the other as you move right or left, especially as you leave the platform ? All these questions you should be able to answer in the affirmative. Kinds of gesture. At the stage of work which we now assume, we shall be aided by a rough classification of gestures. It is made, however, not so much for its own value as because it furnishes a convenient way of giving certain suggestions and warnings. One should have at- tained a good deal of freedom in gesture before consider- ing these ; for in the early part of his work he should not trouble himself about absurdities, but rather dare to be absurd. Locative gestures. First, we will notice gestures which indicate place, with reference either to visible objects or imagined objects. Sentences for illustration: This is the picture I refer to. '^On they went, charging up that fearful path, eleven against seventy." Suggestions : Avoid unnecessary pointing ; as in say- ing, Ybu and me. It is unnecessary to indicate the seat of the emotions as in either heart or stomach every time one refers to a feeling. Beware of unfortunate point- GESTURE 487 ing; as when one indicates that the good sheep in his audience are on the right and the bad goats on the left, or whirls upon the chairman as a dastardly villain. But note that much depends upon where the speaker looks. Since the audience follows the speaker's eyes more than they do his hand, they are not likely to turn to an indi- vidual when the speaker says dramatically, ''Thou art the man ! ' ' unless he both points and looks at some un- fortunate. Do not look fixedly at any point within easy range of your hearer's eyes, unless you wish them to look there also. They will not often turn, however, to a point toward the back of the room. Do not look at a blackboard, chart or picture unless you wish your audi- ence to look there at that moment. Do not look at a commonplace object, such as a white wall, within easy range of their eyes, when you wish them to imagine a scene. What they actually see checks their imagination. ''They bore their hero back to the little village where he first saw the light, back to the little cemetery on the hill, and they buried him there,'' de- claimed a student; and he pointed with two hands and looked at the floor. Ever since that hero has lain buried in a hole cut through the dusty old matting in front of that platform. You will observe that looking definitely limits imagination. When one says. From north to south, meaning merely great distance, and looks at a certain point as north and another as south, one con- fines the distance within the room. There should be in such a case an indefinite sweep of look and action, which suggests. As far as you like. It is unnecessary in most eases, unless one is in the locality referred to, to pay strict attention to points of the compass ; but having indi- cated the right as east, it should remain east to avoid confusing the picture, as, for example, in describing a 488 PUBLIC SPEAKING battle. Do not confuse the literal with the figurative. One should not intimate that ''the great heart of the universe ' ' is within his thorax. In spite of all these ''don'ts" the locative gesture may helpful in pointing out literal objects and in tickling the imagination of the audience when one is describing scenes and actions. Many of the absurdities referred to are due to trusting to mechanical plotting rather than to a true imaginative conception. And the same remarks may be applied to absurdities touched upon below. Illustrative, or picturing gestures. We have these in the simplest form when gestures accompany such sen- tences as, The cloud was this shape, He walked like this, Throw down that bauble, He stretched forth his hand. The illustrative gesture attempts to do for speech in a limited way what an illustrator does for written words. It may sometimes stimulate imagination far more, but has obvious limitations. Illustrative gesture may also do for language what the figure of speech does : it is at times metaphorical, as when one speaks of a lofty ideal, or a foundation principle. Suggestions : Do not attempt the impossible. Some- times dramatic gestural description is attempted that is too complex, even when truly carried out. Sometimes the fault is simply inadequacy, as when a preacher held up his own pudgy forefinger in saying, ''the finger of God." Do not reduce the figurative to the literal. This point is not easy to slate, and has beeiT overstated. When it is said that we should never use ' ' those gestures which indicate a literal carrying out of the figurative language," this might be understood as denying our most primitive use of gesture, and as forbidding one to make a wry face when one speaks of a "bitter pill," or as a criticism on the Crow Indian who told me the GESTURE 489 sermon we had listened to was a high-up talk/' with hand held above his head. Perhaps it is sufficient to say, keep always in mind the fact that a figurative statement is figurative. Also, be careful with faded metaphors. A speaker extended his arm when he mentioned *^the arm of a crane.'' I saw a debater, describing what he considered the repeated encroachments of England upon the Transvaal, move down the platform one step for each encroachment. The speaker should never forget that he is not an actor. He has not even a tin sword to draw, and no scabbard to return it to; and to provide paraphernalia is rank absurdity. When the great orator Burke, wishing to defy his enemies in Parliament, drew from his bosom an actual gauntlet and hurled it upon the floor, he was laughed at as he deserved. Distinguish also the narrator from the impersonator; that is, there, is a difference be- tween telling about another's words and deeds and speaking in his person. "A prominent reader recites . . . Whittier's ^Maud MuUer.' When he comes to the lines : *She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, And filled for him her small tin cup. And blushed as she gave it, looking down At her feet so bare, and her tattered gown,' on the first line he stoops down until his knuckles almost touch the floor ; in the second line he dips at the water ; then he stands up and tries to blush as he represents Maud Muller giving the water to the Judge on horseback ; and lastly he makes a gesture and looks down directing the attention of the audience to his own feet which are not *bare' and to the 'tattered gown' which is not there." i When speaking the actual words of another, imper- sonation in tone and action may be carried farther ; as in telling a story with a dialogue. Note also that when an audience is aroused they will accept extremes at which in the beginning they might laugh. A classmate of 1 Fulton and Trueblood, Practical Elocution, p. 338. 490 PUBLIC SPEAKING mine ''brought down the house" by accompanying the opening words of his declamation, ^ ' Roll back the curtain of history," with a magnificent, double-armed sweep. We were watching him critically as he began ; but later, had he succeeded in arousing us, we might have accepted his gesture without a thought. Some go as far as to say, make no gesture in your opening words : you are too self-conscious, and your audience is not yet interested in your subject. Suggestive gestures are frequently better for the public speaker than those more fully illustrative. If Burke had made a movement just suggesting the throwing down of a gauntlet, the imagination of his hearers might have formed a vivid image of the act, with no hint of absurdity. As an over-elaborate stage setting may check imagination, so elaborate gestures may also. Manifestive gestures is another classification that has been made. This is hardly a necessary classification, but serves to emphasize the use of gestures to manifest our feelings toward an object or idea ; as when one tosses off a proposal as of no account. These are suggestive in character, but also partake of the nature of Emphatic gestures. These are the most serviceable gestures of all for the speaker. They are the last to be thought of by one going mechanically to work to deter- mine his gestures, for they do not necessarily suggest any picture at all. Often a beginner, with a false idea of how to begin, says, ''There aren't any gestures in that speech, ' ' which is equivalent to saying. There is no force in it. All gesture is emphatic in nature, but this term is applied to the plain gesture which simply says. What I say is true. It may move in any direction and have much variety. The principal suggestion to be made is to avoid the habit of making the same movement all the GESTURE 491 time or gesturing too constantly; for either of these habits soon destroy all effect from gesturing. Where every idea is emphasized, nothing is emphasized. For the rest, the general training advised should suffice. Any speaker v^ho is in earnest will make emphatic gestures. Conclusion. It is difficult to discuss gesture on paper without making the matter seem mechanical. But if you will follow out the course of training as laid down here, persistently working at each stage without hurrying on to the next, you should become able to gesture natu- rally and effectively, without the necessity of giving the matter a thought, although it may always be best to occasionally observe yourself as a safeguard against bad habits. If you insist on working mechanically, you will have a much poorer chance of arriving at easy effective- ness. If you refuse to work at all, you are likely to limit much your powers of expression, or to do many awkward and absurb things which detract from the force of your speaking. CHAPTER XVI PLATFORM MANNERS Platform manners are to be learned chiefly by obser\^a- tion; but a few suggestions may relieve the embarrass- ment of beginners. We may say that a speaker should be a simple, unpretentious gentleman on the platform; but that hardly finishes the matter. To say that a man who '^has something to say which he very much wishes to say/' will conduct himself properly, is to utter a half truth. The matter is of some importance, for every move a speaker makes from the time he is first noticed by the audience, may affect the success of his speech. Perhaps people ought not to judge him by his appearance; but many will, and decide that they do or do not like him, or have confidence in him, before he speaks a word. And he may be under temptation to carry off his '^nerves'' with a swagger or a slouch, or to take on an apologetic excuse-me-for-presuming air. To step for- ward, without attracting any attention to how he does it, but with an air which impresses upon the audience, ^^I have business with you," is to make a good start. Noth^ ing will help so much in this as to be conscious of having something to say worth saying, and to lose self-conscious- ness by thinking of the purpose of speaking. Add to this, modesty, self-respect and respect for the audience, and a speaker will probably bear himself well ; provided he is capable of good bearing off the platform. A few *'don'ts" are in order: Don't follow a big 492 PLATFORM MANNERS 493 curve in walking forward; and don't, on the other hand, stride down the back of the platform and turn front with a military swing. **A straight line is the shortest dis- tance between two points.'' If open to you, follow this line to a position well forward. If you can do so with- out twisting your neck, look at the audience as you come forward. The position of the chairman, and perhaps other persons on the platform, may interfere with carry- ing out these suggestions. The chair is to be recognized with a ''Mr. Chairman,'' or a bow, or both. Be deliberate over this recognition and speak in a firm tone. It helps you in maintaining self-possession, in finding your voice, and also in gaining the ''sense of communication." The salutation may be given from the side of the platform, or one may walk to the front and then turn to the chairman. The audience too should be recognized. To say "Ladies and Gentle- men," is not only good form: it helps the speaker strike the conversational note, provided he makes the saluta- tion genuine. The objection some make to the use of this salutation by a student speaker seems to me to spring from a feeling that his speaking is necessarily un- real. It is, of course, good form merely to bow. But one hesitates to use the word "bow," so suggestive is it of the profound obeisances which, how^ever appropriate for actors and musicians, are certainly absurd for public speakers. If the young speaker will always think of his bow as a genuine salutation, such as he might give an individual for whom he has respect, he will not go far wrong. He will almost certainly go right, if he has gained good bearing. There should be some form of leave taking, usually a bow at the end. Do not say "I thank you." I have asked many intelligent people if they considered this 494 PUBLIC SPEAKING expression a desirable convention, and they have in- variably said, ''No." Some good speakers may use it; but it is used chiefly by those who feel the need of some- thing to relieve the awkwardness of walking away, and who object to the overdone, formal bows. Make your bow a genuine good-by, and it will feel all right. ''I thank you" has already grown into a meaningless con- vention. If you have some social reason for thanking your audience, do so in less abrupt terms. Some young speakers are loath to recognize the audience in any way ; but they would not begin even a casual conversation with a friend on the street without some salutation, nor leave off without some form of farewell. It is certainly fitting for young speakers to show respect for their audiences ; old speakers are scrupulously polite. One must, of course, adapt one's self to the occasion. I wish to add a few more ''don'ts": Do not address every imaginable division of your audience; as, ''Mr. Chairman, Members of the Republican League of Jones- ville. Citizens of Jonesville, Ladies and Gentlemen, and others." There may be special reason for distinguishing some group present, but ordinarily not unless it is present as a group. Do not address the "Honorable Judges" at a debate, if they are scattered among the audience. Do not take up time with repeated addresses to anybody, unless you have some purpose to serve. Don't hang over a desk or chair, like a tired horse over a hitching post. Don't make a practice of leaning against the desk, or of keeping your hands in your pock- ets, or of indulging in any other "free and easy" ac- tions. The objection is not that these are necessarily offensive, but that they are hardly becoming to young speakers, and that they are ways of yielding to nervous- ness. It is better that a beginner should avoid them. One who has gained poise and self-possession is not likely PLATFORM MANNERS 495 to over-indulge in these forms of relief. As you turn to leave the platform, don 't cross your legs by stepping right with the left foot first, or left with the right foot first. Don't forget to be, in small as well as in large ways, ''a gentleman conversing. ' ' The larger matters of courtesy to opponents and to audience have been considered in the chapters on Persuasion. Duties of the chairm^. A few words may be per- mitted here concerning the manners of the chairman. It is his primary duty, not to impress himself upon the meeting, but to make it a success. He should not, unless something in his relation to the situation gives him a special license, indulge in long talks himself; but should limit himself to what will expedite business and help the i; speakers to get into touch with the audience. He should not attempt to forecast what a speaker is about to say in a way in which will at all seem to dictate the course that should be pursued, or that will detract from the force of the speaker 's remarks. The chairman does well to consult with the speaker in regard to what might be said to help. The chairman should not feel bound to lavish extreme compliments upon the speaker. These may be very em- barrassing. I recall hearing a man who had borne an honorable part as a brigadier general in the Civil War, introduced in terms which implied that he was the equal of Grant and Lee. It was difficult for the speaker to avoid seeming either to accept this fulsome praise, or to be ungracious to the presiding officer while rejecting it. On the other hand, the chairman should be careful in making facetious remarks at the expense of the speaker. While much seems to be permitted at lively banquets, and some toastmasters seem to think it their duty to 496 PUBLIC SPEAKING embarrass the speakers, one often feels that the limits of good taste are exceeded. At a banquet of students and professors the student toastmaster cracked aged jokes at the expense of certain dignified gentlemen in a way that made one apprehensive when he arose to introduce the last speaker; and one could feel the relief of the assem- blage when he said only, Gentlemen, the President of the University.'' Certainly on any but the lightest occasions, the chairman should help, not embarrass, the speakers. CHAPTER XVII VOICE TRAINING There should be little need of emphasizing the fact that a good voice is of great value to the public speaker. We know that a good voice is of value in all our inter- course ; and the work suggested below is just as good for the voice in conversation as in public speaking. But especially to the public speaker a voice that is distinct, pleasing, expressive and that will endure hard work, is a great help and a great satisfaction. The prejudice against voice training, which one sometimes meets with, has been in part justified. The quack has been particularly active in this field, making a pretentious show of knowledge that is mostly false, and especially training to affectation. Nevertheless voices can be improved ; and there are to-day men and women com- I)etent for the work, both in their scientific knowledge of the vocal organs and in their skill to teach. I have asked one of this number to prepare the exercises given below, endeavoring to make them (1) brief, (2) sufficient for ordinary needs, (3) inclusive of nothing not fully approved by science and experience, (4) safe as possible in the hands of those not highly skilled. It is worthy of note that vocal training is beneficial to the health. I know of no one who more enthusiastically advises this training than Andrew D. White, who considers it one reason for the long life he has enjoyed, now some fifty years longer than physicians prophesied for him in his youth. On his eightieth birthday, in a message to the students of Cornell University, he wrote among "A Dozen Maxims'* this : '^Practice inflating your lungs for five minutes, at least three times a day, frequently adding vocal exercises. This will be one of the best safeguards against tuberculosis, and if you have anything worth saying in public, your audience will hear you and be glad to listen. ... A firm, strong, pleasing voice is one of the best factors of success, both in and after college. How many good thinkers I have seen fail in securing attention because they were not heard !" 497 498 PUBLIC SPEAKING Qualities desired. First must stand distinctness. If we are not heard we had better not speak. If we^are not heard with ease we waste the attention of our hearers. Nothing is more likely to make an audience tired and peevish than difficulty in hearing. All I could hear was ' I, ' '1/ '1/ " growled a man as we came out from a lec- ture. The speaker, who had given an interesting lecture on a work for which he is famous, had not used unduly his I's; but his weak voice and quick, nervous utterance were inadequate in the great hall, and the grumbler had been annoyed. To distinctness should be added strength of voice ; but it is a mistake to suppose mere loudness will give a voice carrying power. Many speakers and many teachers exhaust themselves, ruin their voices and annoy their hearers by shouting to be heard; and yet their shouts fail where a quiet tone penetrates. There should be more reliance upon deliberation and clear-cut utter- ance, with full vowels and well formed consonants. And without a good tone to work with all else is difficult. A teacher in whose judgment of this subject I have great confidence, lays down these as essentials of the carrying power of the voice: the right amount of breath, purity of tone, free change of pitch between words, distinct ar- ticulation, vocal quantity, vocal quality and loudness. We see that the matter is not at all simple ; but we are relieved by learning that, to a great extent, we may rely for all these elements upon the general training of such exercises as those below. These will tend to bring our speech organs into a normal condition, give them greater strength and freedom of action, and will also increase control of the mechanism. Do not, in seeking distinctness, practise strange mo- tions of lips and tongue, for these will (unless under- taken under the direction of a skilled teacher), only in- VOICE TRAINING 499 crease the rigidity of those organs. Kather seek for ease and freedom by the general exercises. And do not prac- tise abnormally hard combinations of sounds; certainly not until you have gained a good deal of flexibility. For endurance rely entirely upon the general training of such exercises as those below, which will give free nor- mal action, and upon practice in speaking. The more the voice is used, if well used, the stronger and more en- during it should become. Responsiveness of voice should also come from the training prescribed below. Nothing is more trying to a speaker than to have his voice fail to express what is in his mind and heart ; and few sen- sations are more delightful than to feel and hear one's voice responding fully and freely. To be responsive a voice must be flexible and free in inflection and range; and, further, it should have quality and rich and varied tone colors, that it may express all of one's varied thoughts and emotions. A voice may be too tight, too limited, too hard and colorless to express more than cold fact. One warning is in order: If you admire the rich baritone speaking voice and have but a light tenor, do not try to change your voice to a baritone by talking in a forced tone. You will only get a throaty, unmusical voice, with permanent throat trouble as a probable addi- tion. You must accept the voice nature gave you and improve it. And you can improve your light voice by increasing its quality, until it is as serviceable as a bari- tone. A high voice with much color and flexibility will seem, to any but the keenest ears, much lower than it actually is. After all, Webster's voice is described as a tenor, and Lincoln's was even shrill at the beginning of a speech, though more musical as he warmed to his work. 500 PUBLIC SPEAKING The teacher has far less trouble with those whose \ voices are naturally high, than with the many who pitch their voices too high for their natural range. Each per- son may be said to have a normal keynote, the note which is easiest for him. From this his voice ranges up and down, usually through several notes, and in animated dis- course through more than an octave. And this free move- ment of the voice contributes much to its pleasantness and its expressiveness. Now, it is a common fault to establish an abnormally high keynote, from which the voice rises but below which it rarely falls. Instead of running high and low, it runs high and higher; thereby greatly de- creasing its power of expression. This fault, which often becomes a habit, seems to be due primarily to speaking in a strained nervous state, in which there is failure to dis- criminate values and to come into touch with one's audience. When one finds himself speaking in this way, he should stop deliberately and seek to get into the con- versational frame of mind. The teacher can often break up this strained manner of speaking, by asking a ques- tion about subject-matter, and then calling the student's attention to the difference beween his manner of an- swering and the manner in which he has been speaking. The teachings of Chapter II and XIII are in point ; and practice on exercises 13 and 14, below, will prove bene- ficial. Special defects, such as stammering, lisping and in- ability to produce certain sounds, may be helped and even cured by the general training here outlined; but usually the services of a skilled teacher are required. In many cases stammering can be cured, — really cured, not changed into a singsong; and in most cases relief is possible. VOICE TRAINING 501 The preceding should not be taken to imply that the skilled teacher is not needed in every phase of voice training. In every department of our work he is needed, but in no other department is it so important that teacher and pupil come face to face as in voice training. The best of exercises are easily perverted, and much depends upon the trained ear. It is because of this fact and because some successful teachers have failed to make themselves clear when devoting a whole book to the subject, that no attempt is made here at a brief systematic treatment. Nevertheless the mat- ter is too important to pass over altogether ; and users of this text will find it convenient to have some exercises, at once standard and as safe as possible, laid out. For more detailed treatment of these topics, I refer especially to Mind and Voice, by S. S. Curry, Ph.D., a very successful teacher of voice, The Voice and Practical Phonology, by W. A. Aiken, M.D., and Voice Production, by Wesley Mills, M.D. For the very complex problems of enunciation and articulation we have the work done on "Visible Speech" by Alex. Melville Bell, and set forth in Sounds and their Relations. But as this book is very difficult, it is better for most to turn to the popularization of his work in the chapter on Molding Tone into Words, in Curry's Mind and Voice, Sweet's Handbook of Phonetics is another difficult but valuable work. Expression is voice training. We should observe that in a sense all vocal expression is voice training. Persistent practice in attempting to give full and ade- quate vocal interpretation to good literature, using se- lections of a wide range of feeling, will enrich the voice and is one of the best and safest forms of vocal culture ; and, it may be added, of mental culture. Practice must be persistent. All voice training is but folly without regular, persistent, intelligent practice, and the older one is the more practice he must have. If you wish to improve your voice, make up your mind to prac- tise fifteen minutes twice a da}^, as a minimum. You will not miss the time, for you will find the exercises a restful change. Do not practise, however, when you are tired out f and* never practise w^hen your mind is not 502 PUBLIC SPEAKING alert. I£ possible, practise where you will not fear being overheard ; for to practise vocal exercises with an effort to keep them subdued may injure your voice. Freedom is essential. The exercises given in the chapter on Gesture are an excellent preparation for voice training, and should be used along with those that follow. Exercises for Breathing^ 1. Lie on your back fiat on the floor. Place one hand well up on the chest and the other across the body just below the breast bone. Without interfering with your breathing, study its nature. What parts of the torso move? Is the greater movement under the upper or the lower hand ? Is your breathing regular or irregular ; fast or slow ; deep or shallow ? Repeat your study of breath- ing while standing erect. 2. Lying m the position given in E:^ercise 1, take a slow deep breath and retain by maintaining a feeling of expansion or slight resistance under the lower hand, while the chest remains firm. Relax all the neck muscles, and do not attempt to control the breath by closing the throat. During the inhalation do not ''push" with the diaphragm, and do not let the central part of the torso collapse during exhalation; but rather let the muscles gradually relax. Increase from day to day the depth of breathing. To' facilitate this, count mentally. For example, inhale dur- ing five counts, hold the breath for three counts, and re- lease the breath during five counts. Do not lengthen the *'hold" to the point of discomfort. After you are accus- tomed to this exercise, take it while standing, and while walking about the street. 3. a. While lying on the floor with the arms free at the sides, take a full easy breath at the center of the body and slowly exhale by making a slight noise between the 1 The exercises iu this chapter have been arranged by G. B. Muchmore. See footnote to p. 47t>. VOICE TRAINING 503 tongue and the upper teeth, — more like a whistle than a hiss. Make as little noise and use as little breath as is possible, but above all keep the escape of breath regular. b. Repeat the exercise, using the vowel ah instead of the whistle. 4. Repeat the exercises given under 2, 3a and 3& while standing on the toes, with the arms extending slightly back of a lateral horizontal position. Keep the chest well expanded. Expansion of the Torso with Free Breathing 5. a. Lie flat on the floor; place one hand well up on the chest and the other under the body at the small of the back. Separate the hands by muscular expansion of the torso, but without interfering with the rhythm of the breathing. Do not hold the breath during the act of expanding. 6. With the torso thus expanded, repeat exercises 2, 3a and 3&. 6. Stand with the weight well forward on one foot, with the other resting on the floor behind and slightly supporting the body; and repeat exercises 5a and 56. Initiation of Tone Use here 5 and 6 of the gesture exercises. 7. Stand erect with the weight well forward on one foot, chest expanded ; take an easy full breath and at the same time allow the jaw to drop and the throat muscles to relax. Then speak immediately and quickly, but not loudly, the vowel ah without inflection. Repeat several times, taking a new breath for each tone, and being sure to release the surplus breath after each tone. Make several tones on one pitch in quick succession; thus, ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, etc. These should be repeated on various pitches within easy range and with gradually increased range and volume. 504^ PUBLIC SPEAKING Support of Tone 8. Observing conditions described in exercise 7, sustain with animation the vowel ah^ stopping the tone the in- stant breath control is lost and tone quality deteriorates. Repeat on various pitches within easy range, gradu- ally increasing the range, intensity and duration of the tones. 9. "With good body and breathing conditions, count on a sustained pitch and with a single breath for each group, as follows: one; one-two; one-two-three; one-two-three- four, etc. Be sure that there is a definite relaxation of the dia- phragm and the associated breathing muscles, after each group, and a definite but not strained, preparation for the next group. Repeat on various pitches and gradually increase the number of counts in a single breath. 10. Observing good conditions, chant some rhythmical poem, such as The Brook, or The Bells of Shandon. (See selections 26 and 27 below.) Begin the first line of each stanza on an easy pitch, and begin each successive line one interval higher. Accentuate the correct phras- ing and give a definite touch to each word, in order that the thought may be brought out, and thus keep the chant from drifting into a monotonous sing-song. Vowels ^ 11. Repeat exercises 7 and 8, using all the vowel sounds in the language. Consonants ^ 12. Use various combinations of all the vowel and consonant sounds in the language, thus: ah-la, ah-ta, ah-ka, etc.; la-la, pa-pa, na-na, etc.; then rhythmically thus, la, la-la-la, la-la-la, la, la; ka, ka-ka-ka, ka-ka-ka, ka, ka, etc. 1 See Curry's Mind and Voice, Chapter VIII. VOICE TRAINING 505 Use various pitches with frequent chanpje of tempo and volume. Precise and accurate movements of the speech organs are necessary, so that the sounds may be clear-cut and distinct. 13. Sing the various vowels up and down the scale; then skip about freely from pitch to pitch. 14. a. Count on a sustained pitch from one to ten, being sure to release the surplus breath after each count and to take a new breath for the next. Kepeat with ris- ing inflections on each count; with falling inflections; with alternate rising and falling inflections. 6. Count in groups of five with a long falling inflec- tion on one and the other four with shorter but definite inflections, successively falling; with a short rising in- flection on one, long falling inflection on two, and the others as before, etc. Count in groups of five with a long rising inflection on one and w^ith successive rising inflections on the others; with a short rising inflection on one, long rising inflection on two, and the others as before, etc. c. Use some such simple sentence as the following (as an exercise in voice training, not in reading) : saw George this morning." ^'Did you see George this morn- ing ? ' ' Use as much range and flexibility of voice as you Range and Flexibility op Tone X \saw \Ge0r5e \morn - 506 PUBLIC SPEAKING have under your control, and change the focus of atten- tion in successive repetitions to each word of the sen- tences. Put meaning into your speaking. On the preceding page is a diagram of exercises 14a, 14& and 14c. Application op Exercises to Speech The reading and speaking of selections, such as are here given, should go hand in hand with all voice exer- cises. The selections should be practised, not carelessly, but with due consideration of the principles laid down in preceding chapters on attention, imagination and emotion. 1. What ho, my jovial mates ! come on ! we '11 frolic it Like fairies frisking in the merrj' moonshine I —Scott. 2. A song, oh a song for the merry May ! The cows in the meadow, the lambs at play, A chorus of birds in the maple tree And a world in blossom for you and me. 3. O for a soft and gentle wind ! I heard a fair one cry ; But give to me the snoring breeze And white waves heaving high ; And white waves heaving high, my lads, The good ship tight and free ; The world of waters is our home, And merry men are we. — Cunningham, 4. Who knows himself before he has been thrilled with indigna- tion at an outrage, or has heard an eloquent tongue, or has shared the throb of thousands in a national exultation or alarm? — Emer- son. 5. Hurrah ! hurrah ! the west wind comes freshening down the bay / Th« rising sails are filling, give way, my lads, give way. — Whittier. 6. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. ^Byron. VOICE TRAINING 507 7. It was a lover and his lass, With a hey and a ho, and a hey-nonino ! That o'er the green cornfield did pass In the spring-time, the only pretty ring time When birds do sing hey-ding-a-ding ; Sweet lovers love the spring. — Shakespeare. 8. Charge! Chester, charge! On! Stanley, on! Were the last words of ]Marmion. — Scott, 9. W'en you see a man in woe, Walk right up and say '*hul!o!'* Say "hullo" and "how d' ye do?'* "How 's the world a-usin' j^ou Slap the fellow on his back, Bring yer han* down with a whack ; Waltz right up, an' don't go slow. Grin an' shake an' say *'hulloI" —S, W. Foss. 10. Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee : 2^ Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears. Our faith, triumphant o'er our fears. Are all with Thee — are all with Thee ! — Longfellow. 11. Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can ; Come saddle your horses, and call up your men ; Come open the Westport, and let us gang free, And it 's room for the bonnets of bonnie Dundee ! — Scott. 12. One of the illusions is, that the present hour is not the critical decisive hour. Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. No man has learned anything rightly, until he knows that every day is Doomsday. — Emerson. 13. No man can accomplish that which benefits the ages and not suffer. Discoverers do not reap the fruit of what they discover. Reformers are pelted and beaten. Men who think in advance of their time are persecuted. They who lead the flock must fight the wolf. — Beech er. 14. I go to prove my soul ! I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive ! What time, what circuit first, I ask not ; but unless God send His hail 508 PUBLIC SPEAKING Or blinding fireballs, sleet or stifling snow, In some time. His good time, I shall arrive ; He guides me and the bird. In His good time! — Browning, 15. Come, all ye jolly shepherds, that whistle down the glen I I '11 tell ye of a secret that courtiers dinna ken: What is the greatest bliss that the tongue o' man can name? 'T is to woo a bonnie lassie when the kye come hame. — Hogg. 16. Words are instruments of music ; an ignorant man uses them for jargon ; but when a master touches them they have unex- pected life and soul. Some words sound out like drums ; some breathe memories sweet as flutes ; some call like a clarionet ; some shout a charge like trumpets ; some are sweet as children's talk ; others rich as a mother's answering back. 17. When a mnn lives with God, his voice shall be as sweet as the murmur of the brook and the rustle of the corn. — Emerson. 18. Over our manhood bend the skies; Against our fallen and traitor lives The great winds utter prophecies ; With our faint hearts the mountain strives, Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicito. And to oTir age's drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea. — Lowell, 19. Ye living flowers that skirt tli' eternal frost! Ye wild goats, s])orting 'round the eagle's nest! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain storm ! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds ! Ye signs and wonders of the elements! Utter forth *'God!" and fill the hills with praise! — Coleridge, 20. There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at its flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows, and in miseries; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. — ^hnhcHpenre. VOICE TRAINING 509 21. Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole. I thank whatever Gods may be For my unconquerable soul. It matters not how straight the gate, How charged wuth punishment the scroll, I am the master of my fate ; I am the captain of my soul. Invictus — William Ernest Henley. 22. Fear Death? — to feel the fog in my throat. The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe ; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go : For the journey is done and the summit attained. And the barriers fall, Tho' a battle 's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all. I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more, The best and the last I I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forebore, And bade me creep past. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave. The black minute 's at end, And the elements* rage, the fiend-voices that rave. Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul ! I shall clasp thee again» And with God be the rest ! Prospice — Robert Browning, 23. There lies the port : the vessel puffs her sails : There gloom the dark broad seas, ^iy mariners, Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me,- That ever with a frolic w^elcome took 510 PUBLIC SPEAKING The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads, — you and I are old ; Old age has yet his honor and his toil ; Death closes all : but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks ; The long day wanes ; the slow moon climbs ; the deep Moans round with many voices. Come my friends, 'T is not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down ; It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven ; that which we are, w^e are ; One equal temper of heroic hearts. Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. Ulysses. — Tennyson. 24. The suns of summer seared his skin, The cold his blood congealed ; The forest giants blocked his way ; The stubborn acres' yield He w^renched from them by dint of arm, And grim old Solitude Broke bread with him and shared his cot Within the cabin rude. The gray rocks gnarled his massive hands; The north wind shook his frame; The wolf of hunger bit him oft ; The Tv'orld forgot his name; But 'mid the lurch and crash of trees. Within the clearing's span Where now the bursting wheatheads dip. The Fates turned out — a man ! The Frontiersman. — Richard Wightman. 25. The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story ; VOICE TRAINING 511 The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying ; Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear. And thinner, clearer, further going ; O sweet and far, from clifP and scar, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying ; Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky. They faint on hill or field or river ; Our echoes roll from soul to soul. And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying; And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. 26. I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down. Or slip between the ridges; By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river ; For men may come and men may go. But I go on forever. 27. With deep affection and recollection, 1 often think of those Shandon bells, Whose sound so wild would, in the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle their magic spells. On this I ponder where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, sweet Cork, of thee, With thy bells of Shandon, that sound so grand, on The pleasant waters of the river Lee. Bugle Song. — Tennyson, The Brook. — Tennyson. 512 PUBLIC SPEAKING I Ve heard bells chiming full many a clime in, Tolling sublime in cathedral shrine ; While at a glib rate, brass tongues would vibrate ; But all their music spoke naught like thine. For memory dwelling, on each proud swelling Of thy belfry, knelling its bold notes free, Made the bells of Shandon sound far more grand, on The pleasant waters of the river Lee. The Bells of Shandon. — Mahony 28 and 29. The long period sentences quoted at p. 438. INDEX Abbott, Lyman, 391, 392, 393. Abstract ideas, difficult to at- tend to, 62; use of, treacher- ous, 64; not necessarily su- perior, 70. Abstract subjects, preparing speeches on, 85. Accuracy and authority of the speaker, 305 ff. . Action, may not follow belief, 187; determined by atten- tion, 191 ff; after delibera- tion, 193; to develop sense of responsibility, 207 ; sugges- tion and, 222; mob demands immediate, 241 ; securing future, 343. Activity, a means of interest- ing, 135. Admissions of an opponent, 295. Advertising, a means of in- creasing authoritativeness of the speaker, 225; use of repetition in, 287. Affectation, 16; in phrasing, 170 f. Affections, as fundamental in- terests, 114; as motive, 197. Age and conservatism, 284. xAgitator, 283, 307. Aiken, W. A., 501. A Liberal Education, selection, 463. Alice in Wonderland, 132, 172. Amplilication, and sustained attention, 152 f; and brevity, 154; in persuasion, 213; as a means of suggestion, 224; afl'ecting delivery, 436. Amusing an audience, 131, 311. Analogy, 141. Analysis, of subjects, 80 ff, 152 f; of audience, 396 ff; in outline, 402 ff . Angell, J. R., 57, 61, 76, 192. Anger, diminishes the influence of the speaker, 327. Antagonizing the audience, 134, 257, 330 fi\ Anticipation, to sustain atten- tion, 130; a factor in sugges- tion, 236. Antithesis, 169. Appeal, to emotion, 196; to a mob, 240 f. Approach, to the audience, 257 ; belligerent attitude to be avoided, 257 ; finding common ground, 260 ; explanations, 265; definition of terms in, 267; order of arguments, 270; concessions, 268; in the outline, 404, 414, 417. Approval and admiration, as motives, 201. Argument, exposition in, 177; review of accepted, in persua- sion, 212; place of logical, in persuasion, 248; both per- suasive and sound to be ef- fective, 249; emotion in, 250; effect of unrelated emotion on, 255 ; tendency of audience to resist, 259; rate of prog- ress in, 273; bearing of fixed opinions, principles and senti- ments on, 273 ff; precedent, 288; authorities, 291; for future action, 344; see Be- lief, Authority, Approach to audience. Persuasion and be- lief. 514 INDEX Aristotle, classification of emo- tions, 197; justification of persuasion, 339. Association, of the new with the old, 55; and emotion, 103 ff. Athletics, speech subjects on, 361. Attention, and delivery, general references, Chapters II, IV, XIII, XIV; principles ot, 50 ff; forms of, 51 ff; and in- terest, 53; sustained, 59; concreteness and, 62; imag- ination and, 73; of the speaker to his topic, 77 ff ; economy of, 112; of the audi- ence, how won, 112 ff; imag- ination and attention of audi- ence, 139 ff ; means of sus- taining, 152 ff; determines action, 192; beli^ef, a problem of securing exclusive, 245; and remote action, 343; re- lation of ideas, 434 ff ; see Centering, Audience, Speaker. Attitude, emotional, of audi- ence, 253, 346; speaker to avoid a belligerent, 257. Audience, contact with, Chap- ter II; attention of, Chapters VI, VIII, IX; necessity of interesting, 111; how win the attention of, 112 ff; funda- mental interests of, 113; dif- ferences in interests of, 115; relation of speaker to, 116 ff; the general, 118 ff; common interests of, 118 ff; means of interesting all, 120 ff; use of derived interest, 120; novelty and interest of, 123; the fa- miliar and interest of, 124; differences in relish for novelty, 126; making it think, 127; antagonizing the, 134; consideration of, in choosing illustrations, 145 ; emotional attitude of, ap- proach to, 257; conservative or radical tendencies of, 279; fairness and courtesy toward, 317; respect for, 318; not to be patronized, 321; tact in addressing, 329 ff; convicting of ignorance, 330; should avoid humiliating, 331; need- less stirring of prejudices of, 333; demands sincerity in the speaker, 335; considera- tion of, in choosing subjects, 349 ff; salutation of, 493 f; see Attention, Emotion, Mo- tives, Interest, Sustained at- tention, and Suggestion. Authority, in suggestion, 224; efiectiveness of, in argument, 291 f; persuasive use of, 291 f; tests for an, 292; how attacked, 300 ; Lincoln's method of attacking, 301 ; the speaker as an, 304; used against exaggeration, 307; positiveness an element in, 308; effect of humor on, 311; see Exaggeration. Await the Issue, a selection, 465. Bacon, Lord, on reading, 377 f. Bailey, L. H., 280. Bain, A., 246, 278. Baker, G. P., 186, 198, 268, 382. Baldwin, J. M., 193, 254. Banquet speaking, and stories, 132; usually purposeful, 189. Beecher, Henry Ward, his train- ing, 10; definition of oratory, 188; use of motives, 198, 201 ; and crowd psychology, 234; finding common ground, 264 ; and self-respect, 326. Belief, as a purpose of speak- ing, 111; and action, 187; persuasion and, 245-348; and attention, 245 ; dependence of, upon experience, 247 ; logi- cal argument in securing, INDEX 515 248; emotion in securing, 250; desire and, 253 ff; com- mon ground of, 262; reasons often absent for, 275; con- servatism and, 279 ff; see Persuasion and belief. Bell, Alexander Melville, 501. Belligerent attitude and persua- sion, 257. "Be natural," 28. Betts, W. H., 72. Beveridge, A. J., on humor, 313; on self-confidence, 325. Bible, as a source of illustra- tion, 146, 147; a model of pure English, 322; Paul's persuasiveness, 341 ; refer- ences to Luke 18:10, 458, 460, 462. Bluff, in college debates, 299. Bluntness, 172. Books, as authorities in argu- ments, 294; finding them, 369 ff. Booth, Maud Ballington, 27. Bows, 493. Breathing, pause utilized for, 440; exercises for, 502. Brevit}^ detail consistent with, 143; virtue of, 154; not necessarily good, 154; sug- gestions for, 157. Brooks, Phillips, on speech preparation, 380 ; outline, 399. Bryan, W. J., 147, 170. Bryce, James, as an authority, 295. Burke, Edmund, 214, 489. Burr, George L., 172. Business men and public speak- ing, 8. Campus topics for speech sub- jects, 352, 360. Carlyle, Thomas, 114, 465. Centering, 425 ff. Chairman, recognition of, 493: duties of, 495. Chart, in exposition, 179; speaker's, 396. Cicero, 45, 257, 417. Classical form of outline, 416 ff. Clearness, and vividness needed by speaker, 50; through con- creteness, 63 ; imagination and, 73; as a purpose of speaking, 111; and brevity, 156; consideration of audi- ence needed, 182; an essential of the outline, 406. Climax, in composition, 169; in order of argument, 270. Coherence, in composition, 164; Wendell Phillips and, 165; in the outline, 407; in de- livery, 442. College classes in public speak- ing, 12. College students and clearness, 183; and modesty, 323. College oratory, 17, 164. Common ground, 260; of inter- est, 260; of feeling, 260; of belief, 262; methods of find- ing, 263 ff ; see Persuasion and belief. Commonplace and platitude, 119. Composition, 168. Concessions, 268. Conclusion of an outline, 406, 418. Concreteness and attention, 62 ; and clearness, 63; Dewey's definitions, 68; and interest of the audience, 135; and sus- tained attention, 153; and persuasion, 215. Conduct, a purpose of speak- ing, 111, 184-244; see Per- suasion. Conflict, interest in, 134. Conservatism, and persuasion, 279; considerations in judg- ing, 279 ff; overcoming, 286. Consonants, exercises for, 504. Hontra-suggestion, 229. 516 INDEX Conventions, stampeding, 234, 236. Conversational delivery, analy- sis of, 30. Conversational quality, not con- versational style, 28; recrea- tion of thought, 30 f; sense of communication, 31; in reading, 33 ; in speaking from manuscript, 34; in speaking from memory, 34; in extem- poraneous speaking, 36; di- rectness, 37 ; interrogation helps to gain, 170. Conversational public speaking, misconceptions of, 25 ; need not sound like conversation, 25; "a gentleman convers- ing,'' 27 ; not less dignified or eloquent, 26; not necessarily good, 41. Conversing with an audience, 20-49. Conviction, exposition as a means to, 176; definition of, 185; in college debating, 337; mood of, 345 ; strongest, rests on both reason and emotion, 346; see Argument, Belief, Persuasion. Coordination, exercises for, physical, 479. Corax, 417. Corson, Hiram, 446. Correlation and subordination, in an outline, 407 IF. Courtesy, 317. Crane, T. F., 5. Criticism, in learning public speaking, 13; of self, 80; of gesture, 481, 485. Crowd, homogeneous, 231; char- acteristics of, 231; desirabil- ity of forming, 233; methods of forming, 234; in a conven- tion stampede, 236; may be- come a mob, 237; ethics of use of suggestion on, 241 ; see Mobs. Curiosity and attention of the audience, 129. Curry, S. S., 476, 501, 504. Curtis, George William, 149, 189, 282, 357, 462. Curzon, Earl, 4. Cynicism, 339. Darwin, Charles, on origin of gesture, 469. Debating, use of authority in, 298 ff; use of letters as au- thority, 299; "bluff" in, 299; attacking authority, 300 ff; display of anger, 327; sin- cerity in, 337 ; see Argument, Authority, Approach, Belief. Declamation, see Selections. Definition of terms, 267. DeGarmo, Charles, 50, 63. Delivery, Chapters II, IV, V, XITI, XIV, XV, XVI; right thinking necessary, 17; con- versing with an audience, 20- 49 ; conversational quality in, 28; "Be natural" insuffi- cient advice, 28; conversa- tional delivery analj^zed, 30; directness, 37; will power, 39; mechanical methods, 44; imitation, 47 ; individuality of, 47; attention in, 31 ff, 50 fT, 424 ff ; preparation for, 93, 105, 420 ff; imagery dur- ing, 93 ; staleness in, 96 ; emo- tion in, 97-108; and compo- sition, 167; centering and emphasis, 426 ff; thought re- lations in, 434 ff; coherence of, 434 ff, 441; pause, 439; monotony, 442; delivery of selections, 445-468; see Ex- temporaneous Speaking, Written Speech. Demosthenes, 336. Denunciation, 258; opprobrious epithets, 258. Derived interest, and attention, INDEX 517 54, 78; and attention of au- dience, 120. Derived primary attention, 52. Desire, and persuasion, 196; and belief, 251. Detail, in illustration, 142 if. Dewey, John, 68, 127, 137, 196. Diagrams, 139, 144, 179. Dignity of bearing, 316, 326. Directness of delivery, 36, 37. Discussion, in an outline, 446. Distinctness of voice, 498. Dolliver, J. P.* 6, 321. Dull subjects, liow to make in- teresting, 55, 78. Earnestness, 338. Echo, and coherence, 165; and delivery, 435 fF. Education and study of public speaking, 14. Elimination, and unity, 162. Elocution, 16. Emerson, R. W., 218, 342. Emotion, in delivery, 97-108; and sincerity, 98; in all good speaking, 98; not to be as- sumed, 99; can a speaker command? 100; repression of, 100; James-Lange theory of, 101; developed from ideas, 103; and associations, 103; effect of analysis on, 105; time element in preparing, 105; preparing for speaking, 105; balancing v^ith thought, 105; emotional drift during delivery, 107; in exposition, 183; in persuasion, 195; re- lation to motives, 196; Aris- totle's classification, 197 ; bald appeal to, 205; con- cerned with particulars, 215; and suggestibilit5% 230; and the psychological crowd, 231; in argument. 250 flf; common ground of, 261; in beliefs of educated men, 275 ; mood, the residue of, 346; gesture and, 469. Emphasis, in composition, 167; a result of centering, 426, 443; mechanical, 426, 443; structural, in delivery, 441; gesture for, 473, 490. Endurance of voice, 499.' Engineer, needs training in pub- lic speaking, 7. Entertainment as an end, 111. Epigrams, 154. Epithets, opprobrious, 257. Essenwein, J. B., 381. Ethical questions, speech sub- jects from, 364. Ethics, of use of motives, 197 f ; of suggestion, 241; of per- suasion, 339; and originality in speeches, 383. Exaggeration, and authority, 305 ff ; tends to misunder- standing, 306; places speaker in hands of opponents, 307; and positiveness, 308; and hyperbole, 308; strength of understatement, 309. Exercises for bearing and ges- ture, 447 fF; for voice train- ing, 502 fF. Exordium, 417. Explanation, in finding common ground, 265; see Exposition. Exposition, importance of, 176; in argument, 177; speeches purely expository, 177; methods of, 178; use of pic- tures, charts, and maps, 170; clearness in, 182; students unfitted for. 183; emotion in, 184; and persuasion, 219, 265; as part of introduction, 417. Expository speech, 176-184; suggestions for topics, 363; outline of, 412 fF, 420. Extemporaneous speaking, con- versational quality in, 36; and written speeches, 385 fF ; 518 INDEX meaning of term, 385 ; advan- tages and defects of, 385 ff ; combined with memorizing, 388; reducing defects of, 389 ff ; demands good prep- aration, 392; use of outline, 421. Eye, effect of in speaking, 39. Facts, power of, 288. Fairness, as a motive, 200; in common ground, 269; qualifi- cation of an authority, 294; in the speaker, 317. Faith and action, 210. Familiar, interest in the, 58; interest of audience in, 124; triteness, 124; as a means of overcoming conservatism, 286; words, 322. Fear, as a motive, 202. Feeling, unity of, 159 f; in crowd, 231 ; common ground of, 261; see Emotion. Figures of speech, 148 ff. Fixed opinions, principles and sentiments, in persuasion, 273 fr. Fluency, a danger, 17. Force, 168, 170 ff; and slang, 173; of imagery, 217-222. Foster, W. F., 215, 270, 294, 296, 298, 379. Franklin, Benjamin, 287, 323, 325. Gardiner, J. H., 64. General words, 65, 67. Generalizations, 65, 67 ; "glit- tering generalities," 82 ; have persuasive force, 216. ''Gentleman conversing," 26, 495. Genung, 152, 163, 168, 213, 257, 309. 312, 357. Gesture, 468-401 : a means of expression, 468; adapted to the expression of feeling, 469 ; origin of, 469; metaphorical character of, 470; frees from restraint, 470 ; inevitable, 471; effect on feeling, 472; from impulse, 473; first stage of training, 473; poise, 474; free body action in, 474; ex- ercises for, 476; second stage of training, 481 ; shades of meaning, 482; third stage of training, 483; kinds of, 486 ff; locative, 486; illustra- tive, 488; sijggestive, mani- festive, emphatic, 490. Gettysburg Address, illustrat- ing brevity, 156; an example of unity, 160; model for oc- casional address, 189; echo in, 435. ''Gift of gab," 17. Gladstone, W. E., 88, 389. Good Humor, 327. Grady, H. W., 91. Halleck, 81, 140, 220. Hamlet, 132, 154, 194. Health, as an interest, 113; as motive, 197; an element of the speaker's power, 316; voice training beneficial to. 497. Helmholtz, H. L. F., 60. Henry, Patrick, 322. Hesitation, 440. Heterogeneous audience, inter- ests of a, 118; formed into a crowd, 231. Hill, A. S., 65. History, as a field for speech subjects, 351, 364; sources of facts of, 374. Hoar, George F., 4. Hollingworth, H. L., 135. Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 89, 276. Honesty and tact, 339. Honor, a fundamental interest, 113; as a motive, 197. Hughes, Charles U., 7, 119. INDEX 519 Hugo, Victor, 144. Humor, and attention of the au- dience, 131 ft'; disposes of hos- tility, 261; and authorita- tiveness of the speaker, 311; not inconsistent with serious purposes, 313; Lincoln's use of, 313; see Good Humor. Huxley, Thomas, 254, 463. Hyperbole, 308. Ibsen, Henrik, 15. Ideas, acquiring of, as a system of grafting, 56; developing emotion from, 103; impress a single idea, 161; uncontrolled association of, 161 ; exclusive attention to an idea results in action, 191 ff; inhibiting action, 192; motor, 220; dy- namic nature of, 223; and suggestion, 223; exclusive at- tention to, secures belief, 245 ; original, 380 ff. Identification, to make a mo- tive effective, 203; to secure assent to a new proposal, 276 ff. Illustration, and early prepara- tion, 89; used to secure de- rived interest, 122; specific and general, 138; suggestions for, 141 ff. Imagery, kinds of, 70; during delivery, 93; variations in use of, 151; Emerson quoted, 218; images of motion, 220; a mob thinks in, 239. Imagination, 70 ff; and images, 71; and the imaginary, 72; "a commonplace, necessary process," 72; and attention, 73; and clearness, 73; social value of, 74; productive and reproductive, 74; needs ma- terial to work with, 75; in speech preparation, 83; and attention of the audience, 139 ff; use of analogy, 141; in sustaining attention, 153; in persuasion, 217; and con- servatism, 286; and sym- pathy, 329. Imitation, in learning public speaking, 47 ; a factor in sug- gestion, 225. Impersonation, with selections, 447; gesture in, 489. Impression, preman^^ncy of, 343 ff. Impromptu speaking, 385. Impulse, to gesture, 473. Individuality of the speaker, 14; destroyed by imitation, 47. Inflection, 437. Influencing conduct, see Persua- sion. Influence of the speaker, af- fected by reputation, 116; by age, 117; by rashness of statement, 305; by humor, 311; moral character, 314; personality, 315; health, 316; by attitude toward audience, 317-339. Imitation of tone, 503. Inspiration, 90 flf , 398, 422. Interest, and attention, 53; grows with knowledge, 54, 90; derived, 54: and novelty, 56; in the familiar, 58; and the attention of the audience, Cliapter VI ; as speaker's pur- pose, 111; necessity of inter- esting the audience. 111; fundamental interests of au- dience, 113; the human in- terest, 114; differences in groups, 115; variation of in- terests of same group, 115; as affected by the speaker, 116; of a general audience, 118 ff; derived, to reach the audience, 120ft'; novelt^^ 123; and the familiar, 124; triteness, 124; sensational methods, 128; curiosity, 129; 520 INDEX suspense and anticipation, 130; humor, 131; conflict, 134; activity, 135; concrete- ness of expression, 135; use of specific, 137; imagination, 139; illustration, 141 ff; fig- ures of speech, 148 ff ; ampli- fication, 154; variety, 158; elements of composition, 159 ff ; to secure postponed action, 345; relation to speech subjects, 350 ff; see Attention. Interrogation, and force, 170. Introduction, to make hearers well disposed, 257; of out- line, 404, 417, 419 ff; see Ap- proach. James, William, 15, 53, 54, 56, 58, 60, 101, 123, 152, 191, 194, 195, 203, 208, 245, 277, 425, 457. James-Lange theory of Emo- tions, 101. Jevons, W. S., 63. Ketcham, V. A., 132. Kirby, E. N., 454. Know^ledge and interest, 54. Language, concrete and ab- stract, 62 ff, 135 ff; effective phrasing, 170; common peo- ple like to hear good, 322; tact in choice of, 335; inade- quate for expression, 468; gesture the original, 469; see Figures of Speech. Lavisse, Ernest, 279. Lawyers, speaking a help to, 7 ; use emotion in argument, 255. Leadership and public speaking, 14. Le Bon, G., 232, 240, 243, 274, 382. Lee, D. C, 453. Liberal Education, a selection, 463. Lincoln, J)r.iham, preparing a speech ..n.. 62, 81, 82, 84, 117, 152; ^ i-Douglas de- bates, ' - < , 325, 328; use of coi:;v:oii ound, 266; fair- ness/.^f, t?70 meeting author- ity, oUi; 1 i .srepresented by Douglas, S'.^7 ; his humor, 313- ' • ,.'j'-ct for his audience, 320 ty of, 325 ; good hur 28. Liter j, sources of, 375. Liter oure, as a field for speech subjects, 351, 356. Lloyd-George, D., effective phrases of, 219. Locative gestures, 486. Logic,^ and persuasion, 247 f ; and emotion, 254. Lowell, A. Lawrence, 9, 215, 256. Lowell, James Russell, 310, 381, 382. McDougall, W., 196, 229, 243. Manifestive gestures, 490. Manners on platform, 492-496. Manuscript, speaking from, 34, 388. Maps, in exposition, 179. Marsh, G. P., 309. Material, needed for imagina- tion, 75 ; working of, in speech preparation, 82; imag- ination used on speech ma- terials, 140; for illustration, sourcies of, 146; considered from different angles, 153; finding, for speech, 369 ff ; for selections, 449; see Speech preparation. Matthews, Brander, 310, 388. Mechanical methods, of deliv- ery, 44 ; useful in gathering materials, 80, 379; not desir- able to secure emphasis, 426, 443. Memory, speaking from, 34, 387. Memorizing, 34, 387, 456, 457. INDEX IVfills, Wesley, 501. Misrepresentation, in debate, 307. Mob, 237 ff; control of, 238 ff; see Suggestion, Crowds. Modesty, 323. Monotony, of emotion in deliv- ery, 107; and sustained atten- tion, 152; in repetition, 213; as a method of suggestion, 236; in delivery, 442. Mood, of conviction, 349. Moral character and the speak- er's influence, 314. Motives, 196 ff; ethical use of, 197; high and low, 198 f; fairness, 200; desire for ap- proval and admiration, 201 ; rivalry, 202; fear, 202; not always best to mention, 203; bald appeal to, 205. Muchmore, G. B., 476, 502. Music, increasing suggestibility, 235. Naturalness, varied meanings of, 28 f ; study needed for de- velopment of, 30, 172. New idea and echo, 435. Newcomer, A. G., 197. Note taking, 80, 82, 379. Observation and illustrations, 147. Occasion, relation of speaker to, 116; and appeal to motives, 204; the subject suggested by, 349. Oral reading, conversational elements in, 33; improved by the study of selections. 446; see Manuscript. Orators, born, 110. Oratory, the term, 4, 6; of the "college'' kind, 17. Order, of details in illustration, 144; of argument, 270. Organizations, value of, in per- suasion, 210; are conserva- tive, 281. Origin and history of a ques- tion, 266. Original speeches, best to begin with, 445; see Originality. Originality, 380 ff; moral as- pects of, 383. Outline, value of, 395 ; objec- tions to, 398 ff ; analysis in, 402; parts of, 404 ff; clear- ness, 406; coherence, 164, 407; tests of, 410; the classi- cal form of, 416; suggested form, 419; use of, 420. Parallel constructions, an aid to coherence, 165. Paraphrasing, statements of an authority, 298; not original work, 382. Partition, in outlines, 418. Paul, and the ethics of persua- sion, 341. Pause, 439 ff. Peroration, 406, 418. Personality, in a crowd, 230, 235, 241 ; an element in power of speaker, 315 ft'. Persuasion, Chapters VlIT, IX; exposition as a means to, 176; influencing conduct when active opposition is lacking, 185 ff; definition of the term, 185, 194; compared with conviction, 185 ff; belief and action, 187; the chief purpose of public speaking, 188; hearers classified with reference to, 189; foundation principle of, 191ft'; "what holds attention determines action,'^ 191; action after de- liberation, 193; the theory of, 194; conventional theory of, 195 ; significance of emo- tion in, 195; bald appeal to emotion, 203; sense of re- 522 INDEX sponsibility, 205; compelling people to face the truth, 208 ; faith, 210; value of organiza- tion, 210; manner of present- ing proposal, 211; keeping proposal before attention, 212 If; concrete and specific expression, 215 f; influence of imagination, 217; and sug- gestion, 222 IT; see Sugges- tion, Persuasion and Belief. Persuasion and Belief, Chapter IX ; belief and attention, 245 ; logical argument in, 248; emotional element in sound argument, 250; effect of de- sire, 251; effect of prejudice, 255; approach to an audi- ence, 257 ff; belligerent atti- tude, 257; common ground, 260 ff ; explanations, 265 ; definition of terms, 267; con- cessions, 268 ; the issues, 269 ; order of argument, 270; rate of progress, 273; fixed opin- ions, principles and senti- ments, 273; identifying be- liefs, 276; conservative and radical tendencies of the au- dience, 270 ff; forces against change, 281; overcoming con- servatism, 286 ; persuasive use of authority, 291; atti- tude of the speaker, 304 ff ; not trickery, 339; future ac- tion, 343 ff; the ''mood" of conviction, 345. Persuasiveness of the speaker, effect of personal qualities, 304 ff. Phelps, Austin, 155, 168, 309, 322. Phillips, A. E., Ill, 114, 197. Phillips, Wendell, "a gentleman conversing," 27 ; an exemplar of conversational style, 28; speaking from memory, 35; his coherence and force, 165; use of suggestion, 233, 249; of common ground, 262; use of understatement, 310. Phrasing, 425 ff. Picturing gestures, 488. Pillsbury, W. B., 54, 118, 192, 246 f . Pitch, 444; change from nat- ural, 499. Plan, importance of, 393 ff ; how to make, 394 ff. Pleasure, a fundamental inter- est, 114. Poise, and gesture, 474; exer- cises for, 476; on the plat- form, 484. Political science, a field for speech subjects, 350, 362. Positiveness, an element in au- thoritativeness, 308. Power, a fundamental interest, 113; a motive, 197. Practical, the, interest in, 70, 137. Practical public speaking, 7, 16. Practical thinking, 70, 137. Preacher, oral reading of, 33; age of, and effectiveness, 117; and sensational methods, 128; use of anticipation, 130; brevity of sermons, 157; vaudeville type of, 158; unity of sermons, 163; Robert Col- lier's "naturalness," 172; be- lief without action, 187; omitting the exhortation, 204, 333 ; bringing home indi- vidual responsibility, 206 ; finding common ground, 263, 265 ; indulgence in the ex- clamatory style, 310; appeal to duty, 333; Phillips Brooks on the preacher's reading, 380: on outlining, 399; Beecher on extemporaneous preaching, 386; on writing, 300; Lvman Abbott quoted, 390, 391, 392, 393; Dr. Storrs quoted, 391 ; writing sermons, INDEX 523 390 ff; making a plan, 393; an outline, 399 ff. Precedent, overcomes conserva- tism, 288 ; fallacies of, 290. Prejudice, appealing to, 197, 255; may be good, 197, 346; influence on belief, 255 ff ; disqualifies an authority, 294, 303 ; sometimes needlessly stirred, 333. Preparation, of selections for delivery, 453; of speeches, see Speech preparation. Press, supplanting public speak- ing, 6. Primary attention, 51. Property, a fundamental inter- est, 113; a motive, 197. Psychological crowd, 231 ff. Public questions, speech sub- jects from, 355, 362. Public speaking, demand for, 3; compared with the power of the press, 6; a subject for study, 10 ff; distinguish from elocution, reading, and "col- lege oratory," 16, 448; what is to be learned? 18; educa- tional value, 14; a normal act, 20; and private conver- sation compared, 20 ff ; pur- poses of, 111; persuasion the chief purpose of, 188. Purpose, importance of, 109; purposes of a speaker. 111; unity of, in a speech, 149; persuasion, the ch'^f, 189; consideration of ilk aoosing a subject, 357. Quintilian, 314. Quotations, in exact words, 298. Radical audience, 279 ff. Range of voice. 499. 505. Rate of delivery, 42, 430, 440. Rate of progress in argument, 273. Reading in speech preparation, 81, 376 ff; taking notes in, 80, 82, 379; see Oral reading. Manuscript. Reason, and emotion, 196, 250 ff; not always the foun- dation of conviction, 273 ff. Reform, 282 ff. Relations of ideas, 80 ff, 164, 402 ff, 407; as affecting de- livery, 434 ff, 455; see Analy- sis. Recreation of thought in deliv- ery, 31. Relaxation, exercises for, 477. Repetition, in persuasion, 212; set phrases, 212; and sugges- tion, 224; to overcome con- servatism, 287. Reputation, a fundamental in- terest, 113; as motive, 197; and authority, 292; and attacking authority, 301 ff ; and author itati veil ess of a speaker, 224 f, 304 ff; for sincerity, 335. Responsibility, sense of, and conduct, 205; effect of num- bers on, 230 f ; lost in a mob, 238. Restatement, in persuasion, 212 f; affecting delivery, 436, 455. Restraint, of emotion, 100; ges- ture and, 472 f; lack of, in a crowd, 231. Righteousness, a fundamental interest, 113. Ring\valt, R. S., 117, 417. Rivalrv as a motive, 202. Roosevelt, Theodore, 115, 219, 293, 295. 334. Root, Elihu, 114, 200, 281, 295, 390. Ross, E. A., 74, 223, 226, 241, 243. Royce, Josiah, 57, 59, 64, 230. Rules of thumb, 18. INDEX Scheme for study of a selection, 454. Schopenhauer, A., 47, 65. Schurman, J. G., 5. Scott, W. D., 70, 223, 243. Secondary attention, 51. Selecting the subject, 349 ff; see Speech subjects. Selections, study and delivery of, 445 ff ; kind to be used, 477; how to find, 449; quali- ties of a good, 451; prepara- tion of, 453; partial analysis of, "Who is to blame?" 457; for voice training, 506 If. Self-centeredness of the speak- er, 109, 114. Self-confidence, 323 If. Self-control, 328. Self-expression, value of, 15. Self-respect, and influence of the speaker, 326. Sensationalism, 128. Sense of communication, 31 ff. Sentimentality and emotion, 97. Sentiments, as interests, 113; as motives, 197. Sermons, see Preachers. Shurter, E. D., 216. Sidis, B., 228, 230, 235, 243. Simplicity of style, 163. Sincerity, and emotion, 97; in the use of language, 171; in apologies, 323; in persuasion, 335; in debating, 337. Slang, 173. Snowdon, Mrs. Phillip, 307. Social suggestion, 226 ff. Social science as a field for speech subjects, 351; topics from, 363. Social welfare as a human in- terest, 113. Soliloquizing speaking, 32 fT. Speaker, his attention, Chap- ters 11, 111, IV, XIll; his emotion, Chapter V; his pur- poses, 111; relation to audi- ence, occasion and theme, 116, 334; his age, 117; his authority, 225, 304; factors in influence of, 305 ff ; atti- tude toward audience, 257, 317; personality, 315. Speaker's chart, 396. Specific words, 67 ; and inter- est, 137; specific and general applied to illustration, 138; and concrete in persuasion, 215; see Concreteness, Imag- ination. Speech preparation, developing interest, 77 ff; stages of, 79 ff ; preliminary revisal, 79; reading and conversing, 81; working the material, 82; imagination in, 83; pre- paring an abstract subject, 85; expression during, 87; time needed, 88; finding ma- terial, 369 ff ; what to read, 376; how to read, 377; tak- ing notes, 378; originality, 380 ft'; extemporaneous or written, 385 ff; plan, 393 ff; speaker's chart, 396; outline, 395 ff; see Lincoln, Speech subjects, and Outlines. Speech subjects, should be of interest, 77; relation of speaker to, 116; should be narrowed, 92, 152, 157, 161, 358; suggested by the occa- sion, 349; suggestions for finding, 349 ff ; should have interest for both speaker and audience, 350; sources of, 350 ff'; and purposes of the speaker, 357; mood of the oc- casion considered, 358; time element in treatment of, 358 ; adapted to oral presentation, 359; suggested topics, 359 ft*; see Lincoln. Spencer, Herbert, 67, 145. Staleness, in delivery, 94. Stories, not the only means of INDEX 525 humor, 133; a means of find- ing common ground, 261. Storrs, R. S., 391. Strunsky, Simeon, 130, 158. Stump speakers, sincerity of, 337 ; voice inflection of, 439. Subjects, see Speech subjects. Subordination, necessary for unity, 161 f; and correlation in the outline, 408; in deliv- ery, 434. Suggestion, meaning of, 222; methods of, 224; and author- ity, 224; repetition, 224; the impulse to imitate, 225 ; so- cial, 226; and immediate ac- tion, 227; direct and indi- rect, 228; contra-suggestion, 229 ; increasing suggestibil- ity, 230; effect of numbers, 230; the psychological crowd, 231; forming a crowd, 233 ff; stampeding political conven- tions, 234, 236; mobs, 237 ff; ethics of, 241. Suggestive gestures, 490. Summarizing, in preparing for delivery, 441. Suspense and attention, 130. Sustained attention, 59, 152; in persuasion, 212 ff. Sympathy, factor in court de- cisions, 252 f; and influence of the speaker, 328; in tact, 329. Tact, in exposition, 184; in use of motives, 204; in disarm- ing opposition to argument, 257 f; a combination of vari- ous qualities, 329 ; convicting the audience of ignorance, 330; admissions helpful, 331; needless raising of prejudice, 333; and the appeal to duty, 333; relation of speaker to audience, 334; care in use of language, 335; and honesty. Taft, William II., 200, 295. Talmage, DeVVitt, 292. Taylor, VV. W., 133. Tests, of authority, 292 ff; of an outline, 410. Thanatopsis, illustrating for^ ward-looking thought, 438. Theory, and practice in public speaking, 9. Thinking and delivery, 17, Chapters II, III, IV, XIII, 442; on one's feet, 31 ff; checked by mechanical metli- ods, 46, 427; imitation re- lieves from, 47; theoretical versus practical, 69; in prep- aration, Chapter IV; balance of thought and feeling, 105; making the audience think, 127; average man interested only in the practical, 137; and sincerity of expression, 172; while reading, 377; and memory, 457. Thorndike, E. L., 54, 194, 196. Time, in preparation, 88; and emotion, 105. Titchener, E. 13., 50, 51, 151, 192. Topics, 503 ff; see Speech sub- jects. Triteness, 124; in student speakers, 125. Twain, Mark, 311, 322. Uncertainty and attention, 130. Understatement, strenj^th of. Unity, in variety, 158 ff: kinds of unity, 159; of the Gettys- burg Address, 160: warnings, 161; and coherence, 164; re- lation to emphasis, 167; of delivery, 441. Van Dyke, Henry, 171. V^ariety, of imagery, L'>1: unity in, 158; of delivery, 442. Verbosity, 154, 526 INDEX Vividness of thinking, 50, 62 ff ; in preparation, 83; see Imag- ination. Voice, communicative quality of, 38; qualities desired, 498 If. Voice training, place of, 44; g^eneral reference, 497 ft'; qualities to be developed, 498; references for, 501; ex- ercises for, 502 ff ; selections for, 506. Vowels, exercises for, 504. Waite, H. M., 8. Ward, J. C, 78, 87. Washington, Booker T., 276, 333. Washington, George, 301. Webster, Daniel, a conversa- tional public speaker, 25; on extemporaneous acquisition, 90; his illustrations, 148; emotional appeal before the Supreme Court, 253; dispos- ing of prejudice, 255; find- ing common ground, 264; de- fying authority, 301; prac- tice of understatement, 309; not devoid of humor, 313; reputation and influence of^ 315; personality, 316; and memorizing, 389. Wendell, Barrett, 148, 165, 182, 262, 305. Whately, Richard, 185. White, Andrew D., 5, 14, 234, 416, 497. Whitefield, George, 36, 218. Who is to Blame? a selection, 462; study of, 457. Wiley, Dr. K, 209. Will, in the theory of persua- sion, 185, 195. Willcox, W. F., 293. Will power in delivery, 39. Wilson, Woodrow, 88, 207, 254, 295. Wish to believe, 251, 2722. Writing, in preparing a speech, 87 ; extemporaneous speaker should practise, 390. Written speech, 34, 387; and the outline, 421; see Manu- script. i im