For there I picked up on the heather
And there I put inside my breast
A moulted feather, an eagle-feather!
Well, I forget the rest.
THE JOY OF THE HUMAN VOICE
How much squandering there is of the voice! How little there is of the advantage that may come from conversational tones! How seldom does a man dare to acquit himself with pathos and fervor! And the men are themselves mechanical and methodical in the bad way who are most afraid of the artificial training that is given in the schools, and who so often show by the fruit of their labor that the want of oratory is the want of education.
How remarkable is the sweetness of voice in the mother, in the father, in the household! The music of no chorded instruments brought together is, for sweetness, like the music of familiar affection when spoken by brother and sister, or by father and mother.
—Henry Ward Beecher, from “Lectures on Oratory.”
The one great object in reading is to get at the mind of the author. What did he mean? What did he intend me to feel as I read? What is his real message? How can I best reach the mind and heart of the author, the poet, the dramatist, through his written words?
This is the real mission of literature, and he is a poor teacher who fails to impress the heart of his students with its importance. Too often teachers spend the valuable time of their students with matters of entirely subsidiary importance, such as the style of the author, questions as to when, where and how he wrote, his figures of speech, his methods of composition, and the like. All these are of importance to those who are learning to write, and are of interest to others, but the prime reason for all literature is that the author has something of greater or lesser importance to say, which he wishes to reach the mind and heart of his reader.