Public Speaking

by Clarence Stratton

EXPLAINING

The part which explanation plays in all phases of life is too apparent to need any emphasis here. It is to a great extent the basis of all our daily intercourse, from explaining to a teacher why a lesson has not been prepared, to painstakingly explaining to a merchant why a bill has not been paid. An instructor patiently explains a problem to a class, and a merchant explains the merits of an article or the operation of a device to his customers. The politician explains why he should be elected. The financier explains the returns from stock and bond purchases. The President explains to the Senate the reason for treaty clauses. The minister explains the teachings of his faith to his congregation. You can make this list as long as the varied activities of all life.

Exposition. This kind of discourse, the purpose of which is explanation, is also called exposition. Has it any relation to the underlying idea of the term exposition as applied to a great exhibition or fair? Its purpose is plainly information, the transmission of knowledge. While description and narration exist primarily to entertain, exposition exists to convey information. Description and narration may be classed as literature of entertainment; exposition as literature of knowledge. It answers such questions as how? why? for what purpose? in what manner? by what method? It can sometimes be used to convince a person with opposing views, for frequently you hear a man to whom the explanation of a belief has been made, exclaim, "Oh, if that's what you mean, I agree with you entirely." All instruction, all directions of work, all scientific literature, are in foundation expository. In its simplest, most disconnected form, exposition gives its value to that most essential volume, the dictionary.

Make a list of other kinds of books which are mainly or entirely expository in character.

Difficulties in Exposition. Such are the purpose and use of exposition. The difficulty of producing good exposition is evident from those two factors. As it, exists everywhere, as it purposes to inform, its first requisite is clearness. Without that quality it is as nothing. When you direct a stranger how to reach a certain building in your town, of what value are your remarks unless they are clear? When a scientist writes a treatise on the topic of the immortality of man, of what value are his opinions unless his statements are clear? All the other qualities which prose may and should possess sink into subordinate value in exposition when compared with clearness. Because of all three phases of exposition—its universal use, its informative purpose, its essential clarity—exposition is an all-important topic for the consideration and practice of the public speaker. In its demand for clearness lies also its difficulty. Is it easy to tell the exact truth, not as a moral exercise, but merely as a matter of exactness? Why do the careless talkers speak so often of "a sort of pink" or "a kind of revolving shaft" or tack on at the end of phrases the meaningless "something" or "everything" except that even in their unthinking minds there is the hazy impression—they really never have a well-defined idea—that they have not said exactly what they want to say?

Clear Understanding. Here then is the first requisite for the public speaker. He must have no hazy impressions, no unthinking mind, no ill-defined ideas, no inexactness. He must have a clear understanding of all he tries to tell to others. Without this the words of a speaker are as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals. Or he may deliver a great roar of words signifying nothing. This is the fault with most recitations of pupils in school—they do not get a clear understanding of the material assigned to them for mastery. As a test of the degree of understanding, the recitation method serves admirably. The lecture method of instruction—clear though the presentation may be—offers no manner of finding out, until the final examination, how much the pupil actually understands. So far, in public speaking, the only way of learning that the student understands the principles and can apply them is to have him speak frequently to indicate his ability. Can you not name among your associates and friends those whose explanations are lucid, concise, direct, unconfusing, and others whose attempts at exposition are jumbled, verbose, unenlightening?

Have you not criticized certain teachers by remarking "they may know their own subjects all right, but they couldn't impart their knowledge to the class"?

Command of Language. What was lacking in their case? Certainly, to be charitable, we cannot say they lacked a clear understanding of their own topic. It must have been something else. That second element, which is at times almost entirely absent when the first is present, is the command of language. Many a man knows a great deal but is incapable of transmitting his knowledge. He lacks the gift of expression. He has not cultivated it—for it can be cultivated. The man whose desire or vocation forces him to make the effort to speak will train himself in methods of communication, until he arrives at comfort and fluency.

The district manager of a large electric company related that as he would sit at a meeting of the directors or committee of a large corporation and realized that the moment was approaching when he would be called upon to speak he would feel his senses grow confused, a sinking feeling amounting almost to faintness would sweep over him. Strong in his determination to do the best he could for his company he would steady his nerves by saying to himself, "You know more about this matter than any of these men. That's why you are here. Tell them what you know so plainly that they will understand as well as you do." There was, you see, the reassurance of complete understanding of the subject coupled with the endeavor to express it clearly. These two elements, then, are of supreme significance to the public speaker. Even to the person who desires to write well, they are all-important. To the speaker they are omnipresent. The effect of these two upon the intellectual development is marked. The desire for clear understanding will keep the mind stored with material to assimilate and communicate. It will induce the mind continually to manipulate this material to secure clarity in presentation. This will result in developing a mental adroitness of inestimable value to the speaker, enabling him to seize the best method instantaneously and apply it to his purposes. At the same time, keeping always in view the use of this material as the basis of communicating information or convincing by making explanations, he will be solicitous about his language. Words will take on new values. He will be continually searching for new ones to express the exact differences of ideas he wants to convey. He will try different expressions, various phrases, changed word orders, to test their efficacy and appropriateness in transferring his meaning to his hearers. Suggestions offered in the chapter of this book on words and sentences will never cease to operate in his thinking and speaking. There will be a direct result in his ability as a speaker and a reflex result upon his ability as a thinker. What is more encouraging, he will realize and appreciate these results himself, and his satisfaction in doing better work will be doubled by the delight in knowing exactly how he secured the ends for which he strove.