But the great method of which the two former are mere branches, and which in fact underlies every other, is that of pure extemporization. In this there is a firm, compact road of previously prepared thought leading directly to the object aimed at. When thus speaking, we always feel on solid ground, and each moment have the proper, selected idea, seeking expression, and clothing itself in the needed words. All men talk thus, and we cannot but regard it as the highest form of oratory. When we have obtained complete mastery of expression, and the ability to so arrange facts and ideas, that at the fitting moment they will resolve themselves into words, the high problem of eloquence is in a great measure solved.
CHAPTER II.
PREREQUISITES—INTELLECTUAL COMPETENCY—STRENGTH OF BODY—COMMAND OF LANGUAGE—COURAGE—FIRMNESS.
Almost every speaker has at some time longed to obtain the golden power of eloquence. It always insures to its fortunate possessor a strong influence in the affairs of men. It is needed in the promotion of every reform, and is the only means by which the minds of a community can be at once moved in a new direction. When employed in the service of error and injustice it is like a fallen archangel’s power for evil. But its highest and purest sphere is in the promulgation of revealed truth. It there brings the word of God into living contact with the souls of men, and by it molds them into a higher life. It is sublime to be a co-worker with God, and thus assist him in peopling heaven.
Only the method of eloquence can be taught. Its refined and ethereal substance lies beyond the reach of all art. No preacher can be truly eloquent without the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and even the excited passion and burning enthusiasm which are the human sources of this quality, can be acquired by no formularies. But they may be developed and properly directed where a capability for them exists. In this respect there is the widest difference of talent. Some men never can attain the wondrous power of swaying their fellow-beings. Others are born orators. The latter class is small, and it is never safe to conclude that we belong to it until the fact has been incontestably proved. Neither is the class of incapables very large. The great mass of men lie between the extremes. Their talents do not make them great in spite of themselves; but if they make the proper effort, and are favored by circumstances, they may become effective, and even eloquent speakers. To these it is of great importance to have the right road pointed out, along which they may travel, and by earnest toil gain the desired end. There is no “royal road” to eloquence, but here, as elsewhere, application and study will produce their proper effects. Yet certain prerequisites must be received from God himself, without which all cultivation will be vain as the attempt to fertilize the sands of the seashore.
The first quality to which we will refer, is intellectual competency. By this, we mean a strength of intellect that can grasp an idea, and form a complete image of it; one who is not able to think out a subject in its leading features, cannot speak on it, and if the deficiency be general, he is unfitted to speak in public at all. We would not assert that none but men of commanding intelligence can profitably address their fellow-beings. It is not even necessary that the orator should be above the average of mental power possessed by his audience. Franklin was entranced by the preaching of Whitefield, though in grasp and compass of mind almost infinitely his superior. A man of comparative dullness may, by brooding over a particular subject, so master it, that the greatest intellect will listen to him with reverence and profit. The great German poet, Goethe, said that he met few men from whom he did not learn something valuable. But no man ought to address the people unless he can clearly comprehend the nature of his subject, mark out its limitations, understand its relations to other subjects, and so arrange and simplify it as to convey these ideas to his hearers. The Christian minister has to deal with a great variety of topics, and requires mind enough to grasp not one only, but many subjects.
It is hard to determine just how much mental power is required to secure a moderate degree of success as an orator. No precise rules can be given on this point, and if they could, egotism would prevent each from applying them to himself however correctly he might gauge his neighbor. The presumptuous would do well to remember that oratory is the highest of all arts, and to measure themselves with becoming humility; perhaps the following questions may aid in self-examination. Can you grasp an idea firmly? can you follow its ramifications, perceive its shades of meaning, and render it familiar in all its bearings? Can you analyze it clearly, so that each separate part will be understood by itself, and then again link these together and make each serve as a stepping-stone to the comprehension of that which follows? If you can do this with a single subject, you have the mental power to speak on that subject; if on all, or many of the subjects of the Christian religion, vast and varied as they are, you can preach. No deficiency of intellectual power or originality need dishearten you.
The fact of the close and mutual influence of body and mind is beyond dispute, although their connection is a subject of deep mystery. When we see how much the faculties of reason and imagination—nay, even of hope, love, and faith—are affected by bodily conditions, we can only exclaim with the Psalmist, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Especially is this mutual dependence forced upon the attention of the extempore speaker. In every effort he feels the subtle effect of physical causes, and often under the pressure of disease, strives in vain to realize the grand but intangible thoughts that float through his brain. The body is the instrument of the mind in its communication with the outward world, and even if the most sublime and glorious conceptions existed within, they would be powerless if the bodily organs were unequal to the task of expressing them.
A dumb man cannot be an orator, no matter how richly endowed; and all other bodily defects will be felt as hindrances even if they fall short of the deprivation of an organ of sense. The preacher needs to be a completely developed man physically, as well as mentally, though he may succeed in spite of many disadvantages. Feeble health will always detract from his power. The mind may for a time rise superior to it, but a crushing recoil will follow. This takes place when the ill-health is not extreme; but when it fetters the ability of expression, and prevents the manifestation of living power, the barrier is absolute. Many ministers utterly fail, because they forget that eloquence is the offspring of health; others, perhaps, still more unfortunate have battled against disease and bodily infirmity for years, and yet have been doomed to feel, amid their brightest aspirations, that a power beyond their control was conquering them. It is terrible to sit helpless, and see a cloud stealing over the brightness of genius, and shading the whole future of life. Yet this has been the experience of thousands. We remember an impressive illustration of this in the case of one who possessed the richest endowments. He was almost unequaled as a pulpit orator, yet, in the middle of life, saw his powers of usefulness withdrawn, and his fame fading—only because his body could not bear the strain he unwisely put upon it.
In view of the many facts of this kind, it would be well for the man who aspires to eminence in the fields of eloquence, to examine himself, and see if he have the needed physical strength. With some the incapacity is no doubt total. How many ministers have had their light turned into darkness by a diseased throat, a cerebral affection, or a nervous disorder? But the majority of men only need care and obedience to the laws of life to bring their bodies up to the standard of efficiency. In youth, at least, there is nothing so easily improved as health. By the golden rule of temperance in all things—in voice and thought, as well as food and drink—nearly all may render the body adequate to the manifestation of mind.
To an orator, the power of readily clothing his thoughts in words is indispensable. Language is the dress of ideas—the means by which they are communicated to others. The thoughts that arise in our minds resolve themselves into words as naturally as the clouds do into falling showers. We use words to some degree in our most secret meditations, and whenever the latter become clear and well defined they fall into language without conscious effort. To cause them to do this with precision and certainty is one of the problems of extempore speech. The thought is prepared in advance, but is to be coined into words at the moment. If the faculty of language is weak this cannot be done without such hesitation and embarrassment as greatly to diminish the effect; but if strong, a tide of words will be poured forth without apparent effort. Even in common conversation, a wide difference in point of fluency may be observed. In fact, it was this which gave Gall the first hint that led to the establishment of Phrenology.