The result was wonderful. Every speaker did as the chairman required. The audience heard a dozen or more bright, snappy addresses, full of thought and wit, with scarcely a redundant word. What otherwise would have been a long, tedious and wholly wearisome occasion was converted into a function of grace, a noble inspiration and a never-to-be-forgotten spiritual uplift.
Let the after-dinner speaker note that his speech should seem to grow naturally out of the environment and fit the occasion and the guests—that is, it should be appropriate. The manner of presenting it should be genial and kindly. This is no time or place to give vent to any personal animosity or didacticism. There is no disposition, Nature says, for a man with a well-filled stomach to digest heavy intellectual food. He would much rather be amused and entertained—that is, the occasion is a convivial one. Do not mistake this to mean triviality. Above all things, whatever you say or whatever you do, do not be frivolous. And finally that indispensable quality originality should distinguish both the matter and the manner of each speaker. This may mean nothing more than a new way of presenting an old subject.
The very fact that an after-dinner speech should be short, sparkling and fit the one who delivers it, makes it a difficult form of public address, and consequently necessitates very careful preparation. It is more than “to tell a joke, make a platitude and give a quotation.” While the after-dinner speech is supposed, primarily, to please, and certainly should do so, it is often made the means of conveying the most forceful lessons in business, religion, and patriotism. But when, in conveying these lessons, the speaker becomes prosy, or fails to please, he is out of place and should never have been invited.
CHAPTER XV
THE CULTIVATION OF THE MEMORY
Nothing is of greater importance to the intelligent and thoughtful man or woman who would become a public speaker than the cultivation of the memory. Its pleasures and joys are no less than its importance and usefulness. Well might Richter exclaim: “Recollection is the only paradise from which we cannot be turned out.” How it brings back to us joys of sights, sounds and emotions. One has been thrilled with a gorgeous landscape, a brilliant and vivid sunset, a majestic mountain, a vision of feminine beauty, or an inspiring exhibition of physical prowess. He has seen the proud march of armed men, or the gathering of gay and happy throngs in the public play-grounds and parks. A thousand memories of sights bring back joys and delights of other days. So is it with the memories of sounds—concerts, symphonies, stirring songs, martial music, and the sweet voices of loved ones passed away.
It can readily be seen that memory is the practical basis of all knowledge. Indeed there is no conscious knowledge without memory. No man can think without it; there is no business success; no writing, no poetry, no literature, no oratory, no conversation, no music, no art, no psychology, no anything of mental life without memory. Without memory there is no identity. If I cannot remember myself of an hour ago, of yesterday, of many yesterdays, I cannot be a personality. Life would be disconnected and therefore incoherent and useless.
A poor memory is ever a hindrance if not a positive curse. It is as if one’s legs should fail to bear him up when he starts to walk, run, leap, or as if his eyes should refuse to see, or saw but dimly when he wished to observe. It is a never-ending cause of confusion, embarrassment, irritation, and loss. No man in any walk of life ever yet succeeded without a good memory, and many a public speaker owes his success to his always ready power over this faculty. Abraham Lincoln is a striking example of this truth.
Stokes’s Golden Rule of Memory
Psychologists have not yet determined what the memory is, but all are agreed that it can be cultivated. A few general propositions can be laid down, which, if faithfully followed, are certain to bring desired results. Stokes, the great memory teacher of the Royal Polytechnic Institution of London, formulated his golden rule of memory as follows: “Observe, reflect, link thought with thought, and think of the impressions.”