Why is it that we regard vocal training and oral expression as something to be confined wholly to the specialists? We think such training is needed by public speakers and readers, and by all who intend to make a professional use of the voice, but we do not appreciate its value for the average man or woman.
"What should we think," says Expression, "of a woman who dresses in the richest of apparel, who is extremely careful of every point of dress, but who speaks with a nasal twang and throaty tone, and makes no effort to correct the fault? We know that this is often the case. Why is not the inconsistency corrected? Why is there no endeavor to improve the voice and make it beautiful and winning? What a sensitiveness people exhibit about going abroad with a smudge on the face; but, alas! there is little sensitiveness regarding a smudge on one's voice.
The truth is that voice culture should not be confined to the few, but should become a prescribed branch of the education of boys and girls generally. Not alone are the voices of the women too often unmelodious, but those of the men also need attention. A fine voice may be of inestimable value to a man. The majority of the celebrated orators have been aided by the possession of a good voice, along with the knowledge requisite to enable them to employ it effectively. Mr. Lecky says that O'Connell's voice, rising with a melodiously modulated swell, filled the largest auditoriums and triumphed over the wildest tumult, while at the same time it conveyed every shade of feeling with the most delicate flexibility.
Mr. Gladstone's voice is said to have had the musical quality and the resonance of a silver trumpet; while William Pitt, who was a ruler in Parliament at the age of twenty-one, possessed a voice of masterful power yet of a wonderful sweetness.
Webster's voice, on the occasion of his reply to Senator Dickinson, was so commanding, so forceful, that one of his listeners said he felt all the night as if a heavy cannonade had been resounding in his ears.
Garrick used to say that he would give one hundred guineas if he could say "Oh" as Whitefield would say it.
"But," you declare, "nature has not given us voices like the voices of those celebrated men, and we must be content with what we have."
While nature may not have bestowed upon us their melodious voices, we can do much to improve our own. A study of biography will inform us that many of the most successful speakers, whether actors or orators, have been men and women possessing some native defect of speech or figure which they resolutely mastered by patient, persevering application. We all know of Demosthenes' impediment of speech, and are familiar with the story of his months of struggle and his final success.
Savonarola, when he first spoke in the cathedral at Florence, was considered a failure, on account of his wretched voice and awkward manner. Phillips Brooks, one of the greatest preachers America has produced, was told by his college president that the ministry was out of the question for him because of his nervousness and the defects of his speech.
It would be easy to multiply instances to show that the most awkward body and the roughest voice may be brought under control. In fact, where the voice is imperfect and the man is obliged to make a determined effort to master it, he attains by this means, a mental vigor and an emotional strength and a flexibility of voice and mind, as well as a command over the body, which render his delivery in the highest degree effective.