We once witnessed an instance of most unexpected failure from this cause. The speaker was much engrossed with other duties until the appointed hour, and then, having no leisure for preparation, he selected a sermon he had preached shortly before, and with the general course of which he was no doubt familiar. Yet when he endeavored to produce his thoughts they were not ready. He became embarrassed, and was finally compelled to take his seat in the midst of his intended discourse.
It is well, during the last interval, to care for the strength of the body, for its condition will influence all the manifestations of mind. It is said that the pearl-diver, before venturing into the depths of the sea, always spends a few moments in deep breathing, and other bodily preparation. In the excitement of speech, the whirl and hurricane of emotion, it is necessary that our physical condition should be such as to bear all the tension put upon it. Mental excitement wears down the body faster than muscular labor. To meet all its demands we must reserve our strength for the time it is needed; for any illness will operate as a direct reduction of the orator’s power, and he must not hope, under its influence, to realize full success.
Holyoake makes the following pertinent observations in reference to this point:
“Perhaps the lowest quality of the art of oratory, but one on many occasions of the first importance, is a certain robust and radiant physical health; great volumes of animal heat. In the cold thinness of a morning audience, mere energy and mellowness is inestimable; wisdom and learning would be harsh and unwelcome compared with a substantial man, who is quite a house-warming.”
The picture painted in romances of a speaker with attenuated form, and trembling step, scarcely able to sustain his own weight as he ascends the platform, but who, the moment he opens his lips, becomes transfigured in the blaze of eloquence, is more poetical than natural. Let the instrument be in perfect tune, and then can the hand of genius evoke from it sweet and thrilling music.
As the time for speaking approaches every fatiguing exertion should be avoided.
In the “Rudiments of Public Speaking,” Holyoake gives a passage from his own experience which well illustrates this:
“One Saturday I walked from Sheffield to Huddersfield to deliver on the Sunday two anniversary lectures. It was my first appearance there, and I was ambitious to acquit myself well. But in the morning I was utterly unable to do more than talk half inaudibly and quite incoherently. In the evening I was tolerable, but my voice was weak. My annoyance was excessive. I was a paradox to myself. My power seemed to come and go by some eccentric law of its own. I did not find out till years after that the utter exhaustion of my strength had exhausted the powers of speech and thought, and that entire repose instead of entire fatigue should have been the preparation for public speaking.”
Absolute rest is not generally advisable, for then the preacher would enter the pulpit with languid mind and slowly beating pulse, and would require some time to overcome this state. A brisk walk, when the health is good, will invigorate and refresh all his faculties, and in part prevent the feebleness and faintness of a listless introduction, by enabling him to grasp the whole subject at once, and launch right into the heart of it. Should any one doubt the power of exercise to produce this effect, let him, when perplexed with difficult questions in his study, start out over fields and hills, and review the matter in the open air. If the minister cannot secure this kind of exercise he may easily find a substitute. If alone, he can pace back and forth, and swing his arms, until the circulation becomes brisk, and pours a stream of arterial blood to the brain that will supply all its demands.
Another simple exercise will often prove of great advantage. It is well known that many ministers injure themselves by speaking too much from the throat. This results from improper breathing—from elevating the upper part of the chest instead of pressing the abdomen downward and outward, causing the air to pass through the whole length of the lungs. To breathe properly is always important, and does much to prevent chest and throat diseases. But it is worthy of the most careful attention on the part of the speaker, for by it alone can he attain full compass and range of voice. But in animated extempore speech there is no time to think of the voice at all, and the only method possible is to make the right way so habitual that it will be adopted instinctively. This will be greatly promoted if, just before beginning to speak, we will breathe deeply a number of times, inflating the lungs completely to their extremities.