This peculiar character of preaching renders adherence to extemporaneous speech in the pulpit at once more important and more difficult than anywhere else. The quiet of the church, its solemnity, the fact that the preacher must speak at a given time and has thus the opportunity to write, and that a good sermon dealing with truths always applicable may, when once written, be read to many successive congregations, even after an interval of years;—the fear of jarring upon the associations of the church with any rude sentence or unpolished paragraph thrown off in the hurry of speech:—all these considerations powerfully plead for the manuscript. Yet in hardly any other form of address is the manuscript so hurtful. Extemporaneous speech is pre-eminently the persuasive form of address, and persuasion is the great object of the sermon. If the preacher ceases to be persuasive he may as well cease to preach, so far as the accomplishment of the true function of his office is concerned. The mode pointed out in the following part of this work will, it is believed, enable the extemporaneous preacher to utilize all the persuasiveness that belongs to his character, and at the same time escape all the dangers which have driven so many preachers to manuscript.

The conditions under which lawyers speak are very different. They are tempted by the surroundings of the court-room to set too low a value upon the graces of oratory, while the accomplishment of an immediate purpose engrosses their attention. The judge and jury are before them—a client is to be made victorious, or a criminal to be punished. Keen interest and emotion are supplied by the occasion itself. The law must be explained, the facts elicited and weighed, and the jury persuaded. There is also the great advantage of having the case decided at a definite time. No disposition exists on the part of the jury to postponement. If the lawyer once convinces them that law and evidence are on his side, the verdict follows as a matter of course. But when the preacher gets that far he has scarcely begun. His hearers may admit the truth of every word he speaks and the goodness of the course he advises, but they can comply with his advice at any time, and in that feeling they may postpone their action for years, if not permanently. But the lawyer can press his case on to a decision, which may be resisted for a time by one of the parties, but not by the jury to whom he addresses his arguments, and seldom by the judge.

Lawyers have but little temptation to indulge in written speeches: the exigencies of the trial make formal preparation of little service. The great talent for a lawyer’s purpose is that favored by extemporaneous speech—the power of a clear, orderly statement of facts that are often exceedingly complex. This generally proves more effective than any argument. To grasp all the evidence that has been brought forward, and, putting it into the very simplest form it will bear, to show on that statement to judge and jury that he is entitled to the verdict—this is the great art of the advocate. But his statement must include or account for all the facts; otherwise, he lays himself open to an easy and damaging reply. The method usually adopted is to make a note of each fact elicited, each argument used by the opposite attorney, and each salient point of the case. Then these are reduced to the simplest form, an appropriate introduction sought, and either a strong argument, or an effective summing up, reserved for the conclusion. With this much of preparation the lawyer finds it easy to provide suitable words for the expression of the whole speech.

The speech of the judge in summing up or charging the jury differs only from that of the advocate in the greater impartiality by which it is marked. The most fair-minded attorney will be biased, more or less unconsciously, by the greater care which he bestows upon his own side of the case.

Anniversary, platform, and lyceum lectures have much in common. Entertainment being the prominent object in them all, illustration and embellishment are greatly sought for. Humor is also in most cases highly enjoyed. The same address may be repeated many times and comes to have the finish of a work of art. The great camp-meeting sermons at seaside resorts, at anniversaries, and similar occasions, properly belong to this class rather than to that of sermons. This is the field in which memoriter addresses are usually supposed to be superior to all others. It may be conceded that whenever form rises into more prominence than matter, writing and memorizing will have increasing claims. A speaker who wishes to repeat one speech without substantial variation to a hundred audiences will not find it a great task to write it in full and memorize it. But if he is really a master in spontaneous utterance he need not depart from his usual course. He can fully prepare his materials and then speak the words of the moment, without the least fear of suffering in comparison with the reciter.

Instructive addresses by teachers and professors are nearly always given extempore, with the exception of those written lectures in the higher institutions which are supposed to sum up the results of knowledge in their respective departments. Even then the practice is not uniform, as many professors prefer talking to their pupils rather than reading to them. The practice of reading in such cases is really a survival from the days when books were scarce and high-priced, and the student found it easier to write notes from the lips of some master than to purchase the volumes containing the same knowledge, even when it had been published at all. But the tendency now is to find the statement of the facts of science, art, and literature in books, and depend upon the living teacher only to give vividness, life, and illustration to them. All this can be best done by the extemporaneous method.

Other modes of speech will naturally suggest themselves, but they present nothing peculiar in form. All that can be said about them may be compressed as profitably into the general topics of subject and object, thought-gathering, arrangement, and use of the plan, etc., which occupy the following pages.

PART III.
Plan and Delivery of the Speech.

CHAPTER I.
The Pen and the Tongue.

It does not follow from anything we have said that the pen should be discarded by the extempore speaker. Because he is not obliged to write each word, he should not feel excused from writing altogether. Few greater misfortunes could happen to a speaker than being deprived of the power of recording and preserving notes for the purposes of oratory. The most tenacious memory is burdened by the weight of a large number of intended discourses, especially if they are long and complex. No person can feel sure that he will remember all parts of the speech he intended to utter even in outline, unless it has been reduced to regular form so that one part will suggest another. In going to a store to purchase a few articles the pen is very useful in making a memorandum; if the errand boy neglects that precaution some of the most essential things may be forgotten. Among illiterate people a great many mnemonic signs have been employed, such as associating things to be remembered with the fingers, etc.; but among intelligent persons all of these have been superseded by the use of writing, and it would be very absurd to advocate a return to the old modes on the plea that the memory might be so strengthened that all items could be safely remembered. The reply would be ready: “Yes, it is possible; but we have a far better and less burdensome way of accomplishing the same object and have no motive in returning to the more difficult mode.” Thus while it may be possible to arrange in the mind all the outlines of a long discourse, it is not easy to do it, and there is no gain in the extra labor involved. Everything bearing upon a discourse may be written in brief outline, and then a selection made of what is best, throwing out all other portions. The remainder can then be far better arranged when in such a position that the eye as well as the mind can glance at it. The preparation for the intended speech thus assumes the shape of a miniature or outline, and may be filled out at any point which needs strengthening.