This is an extreme case, and yet there are those whose minds are storehouses of knowledge, who can no more become popular platform speakers, than could the young man, who was ready to set sail on the sea of oratory, with a lusty pair of lungs and a two dollar lecture.
Charles Spurgeon, the great London preacher, said: "I have never yet learned the art of lecturing. If you have ever seen a goose fly, you have seen Spurgeon trying to lecture."
Mr. Spurgeon called lecturing an art, and why not? If the hand that paints a picture true to life and pleasing to the eye, is the hand of an artist, why is not the tongue that paints a picture true to life and pleasing to the mind's eye the tongue of an artist?
It is an art to know how to get hold of an audience. There was an occasion in my experience when I had extreme necessity for the use of this art. When President Cleveland wrote his Venezuela message in which he threatened war with England, the threat was published in Toronto, Canada, on Saturday and I was announced to lecture in the large pavilion on Sunday afternoon.
The message of President Cleveland had aroused the patriotic spirit of Canada. The hall was packed. It seemed to me I could see frost upon the eyebrows of every man and icicles in the ears of the women.
When introduced there was a painful silence. I began by saying: "Doubtless many of you have come to hear what an American has to say about Venezuela. I must admit I am not acquainted with the merits of the question. I suppose, however, the message of our President is one of the arts of diplomacy. But I do know I speak the sentiment of the best people of my country when I say: 'May the day never dawn whose peace will be broken by signal guns of war between Great Britain and the United States.'" I said:
"When John and Jonathan forget,
The scar of anger's wound to fret,