Extempore Speech: How to Acquire and Practice It

by William Pittenger

CHAPTER X.
Illustrations, Pathos, Humor.

All popular and effective discourses must possess at least one of the above qualities. In ordinary speeches they do not present themselves spontaneously, but must be sought out with diligence and perseverance. Some speakers find it easy to sparkle with illustrations and to indulge in humor and pathos, but others can only succeed in that direction with painful toil. We wish now to consider a few of the methods by which they can be secured when they do not present themselves spontaneously.

The need of abundant illustrations has been felt in all kinds of address and many efforts have been made to supply them. A number of books have been published in which illustrations have been gathered from a wide range of literature, and catalogued for use. The speaker may employ these cautiously with great profit; and no longing for an originality, which, after all, can never be absolute, should deter him. The labor of searching for one or two illustrations of an important thought may be greater than that devoted to the preparation of the whole speech, but it is labor very profitably employed. While thinking what any particular thing is like, our conception of the thing itself and of all the ideas that cluster around it, will become much more vivid. Even the illustrations we reject may have great value in sharpening our conceptions of the difference between the thing investigated and all other things of a similar character.

But it is not enough to search for similes and figures among ready-made selections. All we know, hear, and read, may be passed in mental review for the purpose of seeing what truth it will vividly set forth. If we assume that our speeches must be illustrated, and spend much time in seeking for good illustrations, changing those we have used for better ones whenever possible, we will come to “think double,” that is, to see the likeness that exist in all objects to something else. The habit of doing this grows with practice. If we pass our addresses in review asking ourselves, “What points did we fail to make strong and intelligible for want of good illustrations?” we will be able both to see our defects in this line and the means of remedying them. There should be a very careful record of these treasures made, for with the majority of speakers nothing else is so precious.

Scraps from newspapers, sentences copied into common-place books, all kinds of memoranda which direct attention to a happy figure heard in conversation, encountered in reading, or thought of, will be exceedingly valuable.

It is possible to have too many illustrations, but for one speaker who labors under this disadvantage nine have not enough. A bad illustration—one which is cloudy, tame, in bad taste, or which does not illuminate or enforce some part of our subject—is worse than none at all. It should be thrown out and its place supplied with something better.

The power to touch the heart, and as an evidence of deep feeling to cause tears to flow, is greatly sought by orators, and, strange as it may seem, is highly enjoyed by audiences. There is a luxury in aroused feeling, and multitudes will throng to the church or hall where they are made to weep. If the effort for such effects is carried too far, it will become unmanly and maudlin; but in proper bounds it is a genuine oratorical resource. How shall a reasonable degree of pathos be brought into our discourses?

Incidents which involve great or heroic suffering and self-sacrifices, if well told, with a direct bearing upon the general theme, seldom fail to make a deep impression. They are often invented by the speaker, but while that device may not always be worthy of condemnation, its expediency is questionable. Reality has far more power than fiction. There is so much of suffering and sorrow in the world, and so much of heroic struggle against it, that if our addresses fairly reflect this “world-tragedy” the highest pathos will be realized. Keen, quick observation and a really sympathetic nature on the part of the speaker will show him where to find the materials to move the hearts of his hearers. But while using such materials he must retain command of his own feelings. To be truly successful in the use of pathos he must give a reasonable foundation for the emotion he wishes to evoke, and then be able to turn the aroused feeling into some channel which will justify the pain caused.

Humor is intimately associated with pathos by the law of opposites. One is almost the direct reaction from the other, and after one has been evoked the other follows more easily than it would at another time. The spirit of humor is valuable in all forms of address, but in some—notably in the political arena and on the platform—it is invaluable. Its range is vast. It may be so rude and uncouth as to lessen the dignity of discourse, or it may be of the most refined character. While it cannot be relied upon as an argument, yet if a good argument is employed and then clenched by a humorous story or allusion of perfect appropriateness, much is gained. To make an audience laugh at the positions of an opponent, at least prepares the way for refuting him.

This quality may be cultivated by seeking out and enjoying the humorous element which is found in everything. We ought to be able to laugh at all that is ludicrous, without in the least losing our respect and veneration for what is good. Everything coarse and evil should be rejected from our minds instantly, however humorous; but all the really funny things, which can by any possibility be pressed into the service of speech, should be carefully noted and remembered. Abraham Lincoln owed no small part of his popular power to his marvelous fund of humorous illustrations. More than one noted preacher has given a keener edge to truth by the same means.