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HOW TO MASTER
The SPOKEN WORD

Designed as a Self-Instructor for all who
would Excel in the Art of Public Speaking

By EDWIN GORDON LAWRENCE

author of “the power of speech,” “speech
making,” “the lawrence reader and speaker”

(A. C. McClurg & Co. logo)

A. C. McCLURG & COMPANY
CHICAGO, NINETEEN THIRTEEN

Copyright
A. C. McClurg & Co.
1913

Published March, 1913

W. F. HALL PRINTING COMPANY, CHICAGO

To
WILLIAM EDWIN HALL
As a mark of appreciation and affection
I dedicate this book

“Give me that man
That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him
In my heart’s care, ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee”

PREFACE

This work aims to show how to breathe correctly, produce voice properly, put the meaning into words by aid of inflection, emphasis, and the tones of the voice; how to improve the memory, acquire fluency of speech, control an audience, construct speeches, and in every way become competent to think on one’s feet and express thought vocally in an entertaining, convincing, and moving manner. It is intended as a text-book to aid in making students proficient in the art of vocal expression. It aims to cover the field exhaustively, dealing in a comprehensive manner with all subjects pertaining to the construction and the delivery of speeches.

There are so many books treating of the subject of oratory that there would appear scant room for another, but as they all treat mainly of the way to speak, and only give general instructions as to how to speak, there is, in the author’s opinion, a wide field for a book that explicitly shows not only what a person should employ in order to become a ready and effective speaker but also gives specific instructions as the employment of those means.

This book is intended to take the place of the living teacher wherever the services of a thoroughly competent one cannot be secured, or where the student desires to work in the privacy of his own room, and the aim of the author is to make it more practical and of greater value than any of the so-called “Personal Correspondence Courses” now being exploited, and for which exorbitant fees are charged. It may, however, be used to equal advantage by the teacher in the class room as a text-book.

No vague instructions such as, “speak in a clear ringing voice,” “use expressive language,” “mean what you say,” etc., will be given; but in their place will be found directions as to how to gain a good voice, how to acquire the power of explaining by the tones of the voice the meaning of the spoken words, how to secure a delivery that will carry conviction to the listener, and how to construct speeches. In short, this book aims not only to tell the essentials of oratory but also to show the way in which they may be acquired. It contains the complete course in oratorical training as given in the Lawrence School of New York. Finally, the book is presented as a vade mecum that will pilot the would-be orator to success.

Edwin G. Lawrence.

FOREWORD

Vital are the questions now confronting man the world over; but particularly are those questions important to Americans, because the United States of America is looked upon as the pioneer country of the world in all matters pertaining to man’s emancipation from the injustice of ages, and that young country is expected to blaze a trail through the unsolved realm of progress along which the older nations may travel till they reach the plain of universal justice and liberty.

Among the problems now confronting the people are those of finance, labor, religion, conservation of natural resources, and civic justice. The questions are here, but where are the orators capable of making those questions clear to the masses? Where are the men to solve those problems? Some there are who are nobly responding to the demands of the times, but they are too few successfully to grapple with the task.

It is claimed that this is the age of the printing-press and that the necessity for orators no longer exists. This is surely not a valid claim. The newspaper is doing its work, and in many cases is doing it nobly, but it can never take the place of the human voice. An article may be printed in a paper having a circulation running into the hundreds of thousands, and yet the article will be read by only a small percentage of those into whose hands the paper falls; and out of this percentage a still smaller percentage will be influenced by the printed word. The speaker, on the other hand, addresses an audience of only a few thousand, but of that number, if the speaker is deserving of the name, he will influence a majority. Suppose he convinces and persuades only one hundred, the one hundred are so thoroughly brought into accord with the speaker that they go out into the world and, by word of mouth, bring ten times their number to the same way of thinking. By this means all great movements have flourished. John the Baptist, with the spoken word, prepared the way and made straight the path; Jesus of Nazareth taught by spoken symbols only; Paul of Tarsus carried Christianity into Greece and Rome by means of speech; Peter the Hermit enthused the Crusaders by his spoken utterances; Martin Luther brought about a reformation by his speech before the Diet of Worms; Patrick Henry aroused his countrymen by his eloquence; Daniel O’Connell accomplished Catholic emancipation in Great Britain by means of presenting the cause of religious liberty to friend and foe in the shape of the spoken word; Daniel Webster expounded the Constitution orally; William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips and Abraham Lincoln pleaded for the enslaved negro by word of mouth; and La Follette, Bryan, and Roosevelt are expressing the thoughts of the people of today by means of man’s greatest attribute—speech.

Therefore, if any would take part in the glorious work of advancing the progress of the world, let him fit himself to discuss by word of mouth the great problems now confronting humanity.

THE VALUE OF ELOQUENCE

Faith cometh by hearing.

—St. Paul, Romans X:17

It is not enough to speak, but to speak true.

—Shakespeare

Mend your speech a little
Lest it may mar your fortunes.

—Shakespeare

The power of utterance should be included by all in their plans of self-culture.

—William Ellery Channing

He is an orator that can make me think as he thinks and feel as he feels.

—Daniel Webster

A vessel is known by its sound whether it be cracked or not; so men are proved by their speeches, whether they be wise or foolish.

—Demosthenes

I advocate in its full intent and for every reason of humanity, of patriotism, of religion, a more thorough culture of oratory.

—Henry Ward Beecher

Eloquence has a client which, before all, it must save or make triumph. It matters little whether this client be a man, a people, or an idea.

—Victor Cousin

It is to this early speaking practice in the great art of all arts, oratory, that I am indebted for the primary and leading impulses that stimulated me forward.

—Henry Clay

Ninety-nine men in every hundred in the crowded professions will probably never rise above mediocrity because the training of the voice is entirely neglected and considered of no importance.

—William E. Gladstone

He who does not use a gift, loses it; the man who does not use his voice or limbs, loses power over them, and becomes disqualified for the state of life to which he is called.

—Cardinal Newman

I recognize but one mental acquisition as an essential part of the education of a lady or gentleman, namely, an accurate and refined use of the mother-tongue.

—Charles W. Eliot

Extemporaneous speaking should be practiced and cultivated. It is the lawyer’s avenue to the public. However able and faithful he may be in other respects, people are slow to bring him business if he cannot make a speech.

—Abraham Lincoln

The cultivated voice is like an orchestra. It ranges high, intermediate or low, unconsciously to him who uses it, and men listen, unaware that they have been bewitched out of their weariness by the charms of a voice not artificial, but made by assiduous training to be his second nature.

—Henry Ward Beecher

Men forget what they read; some do not read at all. They do not, however, forget when they are told by a vigorous speaker who means what he says.

—John Oliver Hobbes (Mrs. Craigie)

For who can suppose amid the great multitude of students, the utmost abundance of masters, the most eminent geniuses among men, the infinite variety of causes, the most ample rewards offered to eloquence, there is any other reason to be found for the small number of orators than the incredible magnitude and difficulty of the art?

—Cicero

CONTENTS

How to Master the Spoken Word

CHAPTER I

THE MAKING OF ORATORY

the means employed by great orators

The question is often asked, How can I become a public speaker? This might be aptly answered by putting another question, How did other men become public speakers? because by a careful study of the means they employed, others may become equally proficient. From the beginning of oratory down to the present day orators have made their effects in composition and delivery by the selfsame means, and if men of today will apply themselves to a mastery of those means with perseverance and intelligence equal to that of the men of the past, there is no reason why they should not meet with equal proficiency.

Let us go back to Gorgias, the Greek rhetorician and teacher of oratory, who was born about the year 483 b. c., and study the manner of his workmanship.

In his speech “The Encomium on Helen,” he arranges his words in masterly style, making use of all the forms of construction that we possess at this time. He employs the series, the contrasts (single, double, and triple), the conditional, the negative, the positive, and, in fact, all the known forms of arranging words so as to make them best express the orator’s meaning. Here is an effective concluding series he uses: “A city is adorned by good citizenship, the body by beauty, the soul by wisdom, acts by virtue, and speech by truthfulness,” and he follows this sentence with the following one: “But the opposites of these virtues are a disgrace.” Note how effective he makes the first thought by immediately contrasting it with one that rivets the attention to the graces of good citizenship, beauty, wisdom, virtue, and truthfulness, by stating that the reverse of these things are disgraces. Then follows a series of contrasts: “Man and woman, word and deed, city and government” which, he says, “we ought to praise,” and then qualifies this positive with the conditional, “if praiseworthy,” and then makes a strong contrast by stating, “and blame” which he qualifies by adding the conditional “if blameworthy.” He then makes a statement very strong by employing a double contrast, “For it is equally wrong and stupid to censure what is commendable, and to commend what is censurable.” After this clear reasoning comes another statement: “Now I conceive it to be my duty in the interest of justice to confute the slanders of Helen, the memory of whose misfortunes has been kept alive by the writings of the poets and the fame of her name.” He ends his statement with this strong concluding series, “I propose, therefore, by argument to exonerate her from the charge of infamy, to convince her accusers of their error, and remove their ignorance by a revelation of the truth.” Now read the entire paragraph:

A city is adorned by good citizenship, the body by beauty, the soul by wisdom, acts by virtue, and speech by truthfulness. But the opposites of these virtues are a disgrace. Man and woman, word and deed, city and government we ought to praise if praiseworthy, and blame if blameworthy. For it is equally wrong and stupid to censure what is commendable, and to commend what is censurable. Now I conceive it to be my duty in the interest of justice to confute the slanders of Helen, the memory of whose misfortunes has been kept alive by the writings of the poets and the fame of her name. I propose, therefore, by argument to exonerate her from the charge of infamy, to convince her accusers of their error, and to remove their ignorance by a revelation of the truth.

This is a masterly passage, clear in its statement, logical in its argument, and sound in its conclusion, making a splendid model for a student of oratory to follow. True, the mere faculty of arranging words will not constitute an orator, but it is one of the essentials that go to the making of one; and this power of arranging words, and the capacity for electing the appropriate theme, and judgment in adopting the proper delivery are the principal means that men have possessed in all times for the making of orators. It is essential that the arts of construction and composition should be diligently studied by speakers, for it is as impossible to have oratory without men who understand the rules of composition as it is to have orators without oratory. Matter that is to be spoken must not merely be well written, it must be constructed according to the rules of oratory in order that it may sound well. Literature is to be read, oratory is to be spoken; consequently words intended to be spoken must be arranged in such a manner as to make them more effective when uttered by the living voice than when they are set in dead type; and this can only be done by gaining a mastery of the rules of oratory and applying them correctly. We are now dealing with the creation of oratory; later, we will consider the making of orators. The example of Gorgias’ oratory cited here gives a clear illustration of the effective use of words, and in order to emphasize this important point of the value of words according to their location, other examples follow.

William H. Seward in his “Plea for the Union” uses this sentence:

If the constellation is to be broken up, the stars, whether scattered widely apart or grouped in smaller clusters, will thenceforth shed forth feeble, glimmering, and lurid lights.

He opens with a conditional phrase, “If the constellation is to be broken up” and then commences his statement with “the stars” which he interrupts to interject the parenthetical phrase “whether scattered widely apart or grouped in smaller clusters,” goes back to his main thought with the words “will thenceforth shed forth feeble, glimmering, and lurid lights.” “Feeble, glimmering, and lurid” constitute a commencing series qualifying “lights,” and thus is brought about an effective close to a well-knit sentence.

Another well-arranged sentence for cumulative force is the following from the same speech:

After Washington, and the inflexible Adams, Henry, and the fearless Hamilton, Jefferson, and the majestic Clay, Webster, and the acute Calhoun, Jackson, the modest Taylor, and Scott, who rises in greatness under the burden of years, and Franklin, and Fulton, and Whitney, and Morse, have all performed their parts, let the curtain fall.

In long sentences, such as this, care should be exercised properly to group the members composing it, otherwise the force will be lost on account of a confusion of ideas. In this sentence there are three groups: Washington, Adams, Henry, Hamilton, and Jefferson constituting the first; Clay, Webster, Calhoun, Jackson, Taylor, and Scott the second; Franklin, Fulton, Whitney, and Morse the third. These, with the phrase “have all performed their parts,” constitute a commencing series, the sense being completed by “let the curtain fall.”

In his address, “The American Scholar,” delivered at Cambridge, Mass., August 31, 1837, Ralph Waldo Emerson employed these words:

The theory of books is noble. The scholar of the first age received into him the world around; brooded thereon; gave it the new arrangement of his own mind and uttered it again. It came into him, life; it went out from him, truth. It came to him, short-lived actions; it went out from him, immortal thoughts. It came to him, business; it went from him, poetry. It was dead fact; now, it is quick thought. It can stand and it can go. It now endures, it now flies, it now inspires. Precisely in proportion to the depth of mind from which it issued, so high does it soar, so long does it sing.

This powerful passage is effective mainly because of the masterful arrangement of the words. Emerson opens with the positive statement that “The theory of books is noble.” He follows this with the concluding series, “The scholar of the first age received into him the world around; brooded thereon; gave it the new arrangement of his own mind and uttered it again.” Then comes the double contrast, “It came into him, life; it went out from him, truth.” This is followed by a triple contrast, “It came to him, short-lived actions; it went out from him, immortal thoughts.” Then comes another double contrast, “It came to him, business; it went from him, poetry.” Then another triple contrast is used, “It was dead fact; now, it is quick thought.” Then comes the positive statement that “It can stand and it can go.” A concluding series then follows, “It now endures, it now flies, it now inspires,” and the paragraph ends with the conditional phrase and the concluding phrases, “Precisely in proportion to the depth of mind from which it issued, so high does it soar, so long does it sing,” the concluding clause containing the double contrast, “so high does it soar, so long does it sing.” Few paragraphs of like length contain so much thought as does this one of Emerson’s, and the immensity of thought could be placed in such a small space only because of the skilful disposition of the words, the meaning being made clear by the clever placing of one word against another word, one idea against another idea. The sentences are short, and while they may not be particularly beautiful, they are exceedingly strong.

In Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address is this telling sentence:

To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest [slavery] was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it.

The words “strengthen, perpetuate, and extend” are a commencing series because they act on the word “interest.” Slavery was the object for which the insurgents would separate the Union, even by going to the extreme of making war; while the Federal Government claimed merely the right to prevent its spreading into the territories. What makes this sentence so clear and so forceful is the manner in which the contrast is brought out regarding the acts of the insurgents and the claims of the Government.

One of the most expressive and best constructed sentences in English literature is the following from Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address:

The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

This is a triple opposition, “The world will little note nor long remember” being contrasted with “but it can never forget,” “we” with “they,” and “say” with “did.”

Another beautiful specimen of construction is the last paragraph of Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address:

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right—let us strive on to finish the work we are in: to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and his orphan; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.

Had Lincoln merely said “with malice toward none” it would not have meant half so much as it does with the words “with charity for all” added. This example emphasizes the force of contrast, for by stating the positive “with charity for all” as well as the negative “with malice toward none,” he makes his expressed thought clear, strong, and comprehensive, clinching the subject and leaving no possible loophole for a misunderstanding to creep in. “With firmness in the right” is fittingly qualified by “as God gives us to see the right,” and the thought is splendidly closed with “let us strive on to finish the work we are in.” Then by means of a concluding series he states what this work is that we should strive to finish, and he concludes with the general summing up, “to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.”

Daniel Webster, in his address on the occasion of the laying of the corner-stone of Bunker Hill Monument, used this sentence:

Human beings are composed, not of reason only, but of imagination also, and sentiment; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right direction to sentiment, and opening proper springs of feeling in the heart.

The orator states that reason is a portion of the composition out of which human beings are made, but that it is not the only ingredient; that imagination is a part also, as is sentiment, and that nothing is either wasted or misapplied which is used in rightly directing feeling, and freeing the heart of all obstructions in order that its emotions may come forth. In doing this, Webster uses the qualified negative “not of reason only,” meaning, of course, that human beings are composed of reason, but stating that they are not composed “only” of reason, but of reason, imagination, and sentiment, and then, by means of two negatives, “neither” and “nor,” he states that whatever is used for the object of rightly directing sentiment is not wasted and not misapplied.

In the same address, he says:

If, indeed, there be anything in local association fit to affect the mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agitate us here. We are among the sepulchers of our fathers. We are on ground distinguished by their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their blood.

The first phrase is conditional, the balance of the sentence is negative. The orator ably opens with a condition because he is sure of all his listeners subscribing to it, and then he says that if there is anything of a local nature that is proper to act sufficiently on man’s mind as to make an impression on it, then certainly we, standing over the graves of our fathers, and on the very ground that drank their blood, shed in the cause of liberty, should not be ashamed to give expression to the emotions these associations cause us to feel. In constructing these three sentences Webster uses a conditional clause and a concluding one, and two positive sentences, the last one consisting of a concluding series. The last sentence is much stronger and better as a series of three members than it would be as a sentence containing but one. It is far better to weld together the three facts that the ground was distinguished by their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their blood, than it would be to state merely that it was distinguished by their valor.

Here is another of Webster’s grand and expressive periods:

On this question of principle, while actual suffering was yet far off, they raised their flag against a power, to which, for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome, in the height of her glory, is not to be compared—a power which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts, whose morning drumbeat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England.

This is a long sentence but a strong one and it is constructed so as to bring to the mind of the listener the picture which the speaker possessed. Notice that if the parenthetical phrases, which aid so much in picturing the scene, were omitted, the sentence would not be more than half its present size, but the vividness of the picture would disappear with the curtailing of the sentence. Here is the main idea: “On this question of principle they raised their flag against a power to which Rome is not to be compared—a power which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts, whose morning drumbeat circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England.” This example is cited to show that what are called loose sentences are necessary to beauty of expression and vivid picturing. Notice how the parenthetical clauses amplify and explain the thought—“while actual suffering was yet far off,” “for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation,” “in the height of her glory,” “following the sun, and keeping company with the hours.” Without these coloring clauses the sentence would be strong, but it would lose much of its beauty.

Let us examine here an extract from the oratory of the ancients. Demosthenes, in his speech, “Against the Law of Leptines,” delivered in 355 b. c., uses this language:

If now you condemn the law, as we advise, the deserving will have their rights from you; and if there be any underserving party, as I grant there may be, such a one, besides being deprived of his honor, will suffer what penalty you think proper according to the amended statute, while the commonwealth will appear faithful, just, true to all men. Should you decide in its favor, which I trust you will not, the good will be wronged on account of the bad, the underserving will be the cause of misfortune to others, and suffer no punishment themselves, while the commonwealth (contrary to what I said just now) will be universally esteemed faithless, envious, base. It is not meet, O Athenians, that for so foul a reproach you should reject fair and honorable advantages. Remember, each of you individually will share in the reputation of your common judgment. It is plain to the bystanders and to all men that in the court Leptines is contending with us, but in the mind of each of you jurymen generosity is arrayed against envy, justice against iniquity, all that is virtuous against all that is base.

The above is a literal translation of a portion of a speech that was delivered more than twenty-two centuries ago, and yet, in its construction, it does not differ in any material manner from a well constructed speech of today. Notice the conditional, “If now you condemn the law,” followed by the parenthetical, “as we advise,” and the concluding, “the deserving will have their rights from you,” and compare the passage with any modern expression of a like nature. They will be found to correspond in every manner so far as the construction is concerned. Examine the extract in its entirety and you will see that a skilful use is made of negatives, positives, parentheses, conditionals, oppositions, series, and all the many forms of arranging words for an effective conveyance of thought which are possessed by speakers of the present time. In the manner of its construction, this extract from the speech of Demosthenes does not differ from the speeches of Seward, Webster, Emerson, and Lincoln which are here quoted, as they all depend for their effectiveness on the proper use of the rules of apposition, opposition, series, inflection, and emphasis; and all students of oratory are urged to study closely the chapters of this book which are devoted to these subjects.

Coming down to our own day, we find in the utterances of Roosevelt, Taft, Bryan, Watterson, La Follette, and many others the selfsame means of construction as were employed by Gorgias, Demosthenes, and Cicero. Theodore Roosevelt, in his address delivered at Chicago, April 10, 1899, used this forceful language:

As it is with the individual, so it is with the nation. It is a base untruth to say that happy is that nation that has no history. Thrice happy is the nation that has a glorious history. Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.

Col. Roosevelt first compares the individual with the nation. He then employs an emphatic contradiction, following it with a short positive sentence. Then comes an effective contrast, separated to allow the use of a parenthetical phrase which amplifies the statement, and the end is a picture drawn with a few words—“because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.”

William H. Taft, speaking at the unveiling of Lincoln’s statue at Frankfort, Kentucky, on November 8, 1911, summed up the character of Abraham Lincoln in these well-chosen words:

With his love of truth, the supreme trait of his intellect, accompanied by a conscience that insisted on the right as he knew it, with a great heart full of tenderness, we have the combination that made Lincoln one of the two greatest Americans.

President Taft uses a commencing series and a parenthetical clause for conveying his thought. The series consists of three phrases: “With his love of truth,” “accompanied by a conscience that insisted on the right as he knew it,” and “with a great heart full of tenderness,” the sense being completed by “we have the combination that made Lincoln one of the two greatest Americans.” The phrase, “the supreme trait of his intellect,” is parenthetical.

Col. Henry Watterson, on the same occasion, spoke thus:

Called like one of old, within a handful of years he rose at a supreme moment to supreme command, fulfilled the law of his being, and passed from the scene an exhalation of the dawn of freedom. We may still hear his cheery voice bidding us to be of good heart, sure that “right makes might,” entreating us to pursue “with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right.”

Here we have the thought expressed by means of a concluding series of four members, and two positive statements reënforced by two quotations from Lincoln’s Cooper Union Speech.

word-pictures

Besides the use of inflection, emphasis, and the arrangement of words, orators use word-pictures for conveying their ideas; as,

When I look around and see our prosperity in everything—agriculture, commerce, art, science, and every department of education, physical and mental, as well as moral advancement, and our colleges—I think, in the face of such an exhibition, if we can, without the loss of power, or any essential right or interest, remain in the Union, it is our duty to ourselves and to posterity to—let us not too readily yield to this temptation—do so. Our first parents, the great progenitors of the human race, were not without a like temptation when in the garden of Eden. They were led to believe that their condition would be bettered, that their eyes would be opened, and that they would become as gods. They, in an evil hour, yielded. Instead of becoming gods, they only saw their nakedness.

—Alexander H. Stephens

The illustration commences with “Our first parents” and continues to the end. It is more effective in pointing out the danger besetting the South in listening to the temptation to sever the Union than is all the rest of the paragraph. The prophecy as to the effect of listening to the voice of the tempter is forcefully summed up in the sentence: “Instead of becoming gods, they only saw their nakedness.” By means of directing the thought to the dire consequences attending the fall of Adam and Eve through listening to temptation, the orator magnifies the effects that would follow a dissolution of the union of the states. The object in employing word-pictures is to convey an idea by means of suggestion, and, when so used, they become powerful weapons in the hands of a speaker. Here is another excellent illustration:

Books are for the scholar’s idle times. When he can read God directly the hour is too precious to be wasted in other men’s transcripts of their readings. But when the intervals of darkness come, as come they must—when the sun is hid and the stars withdraw their shining—we repair to the lamps which were kindled by their ray, to guide our steps to the East again, where the dawn is. We hear, that we may speak. The Arabian proverb says, “A fig tree, looking on a fig tree, becomes fruitful.”

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Pictures are powerful means of conveying thoughts, and often more can be expressed by deftly painting a word-picture than could be imparted by a lengthy narration. Here is a good example:

Let me picture to you the footsore Confederate soldier, as, buttoning up in his faded jacket the parole which was to bear testimony to his children of his fidelity and faith, he turned his face southward from Appomattox, in April, 1865. Think of him as ragged, half-starved, heavy-hearted, enfeebled by want and wounds, having fought to exhaustion; he surrenders his gun, wrings the hands of his comrades in silence, and lifting his tear-stained and pallid face for the last time to the graves that dot the old Virginia hills, pulls his gray cap over his brow and begins the slow and painful journey.

—Henry W. Grady

This certainly brings the whole scene before us in a moment. We see the hills of Virginia, dotted over with the graves of the dead soldiers; groups of grizzled veterans, the remnant of that wonderful fighting machine that had followed the ill-starred flag of the Confederacy under its beloved leader; the typical southern soldier wringing the hands of his comrades, and sorrowfully, but manfully, turning his face towards home. The picture, as presented by Henry W. Grady, is more eloquent than the narration of the story would have been.

Henry Watterson, a lover of oratory, and himself an orator of no mean ability, speaking at the unveiling of Lincoln’s statue at Frankfort, Kentucky, on November 8, 1911, spoke thus of the great American:

Reviled as the Man of Galilee, slain even as the Man of Galilee, yet as gentle and unoffending, a man who died for men! Roll the stone from the grave and what shall we see? Just an American. The Declaration of Independence his Confession of Faith. The Constitution of the United States his Ark and Covenant of Liberty. The Union his redoubt, the flag his shibboleth.

Here is presented a striking picture by means of the simile. With the charm and skill of a true orator, Colonel Watterson employs the lowly Nazarene to symbolize the portraiture of one who, like Himself, “went about doing good,” and he does it so delicately as in no manner to jar or hurt the religious sensibilities of the most devout follower of the Man of Galilee. All the orator’s references are biblical, and eminently fitting. The mention of the Man of Galilee, the manner of His death, the rolling of the stone away, the Ark and the Covenant, and the shibboleth,—all these keep the mind of the reader or the listener on the picture as presented by the orator, and cause the great Emancipator to stand forth clothed in the splendor of his glorious attributes, which are colored and magnified through being likened reverently to the character of Jesus.

Daniel Webster delighted in the use of pictures. Here is one from his address delivered at the laying of the corner-stone of the Bunker Hill Monument, at Charlestown, Mass., June 17, 1825:

We do not read even of the discovery of this continent, without feeling something of a personal interest in the event; without being reminded how much it has affected our own fortunes and our own existence. It is more impossible for us, therefore, than for others, to contemplate with unaffected minds that interesting, I may say that most touching and pathetic scene, when the great discoverer of America stood on the deck of his shattered bark, the shades of night falling on the sea, yet no man sleeping; tossed on the billows of an unknown ocean, yet the stronger billows of alternate hope and despair tossing his own troubled thoughts: extending forward his harassed frame, straining westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last granted him a moment of rapture and ecstasy, in blessing his vision with the sight of the unknown world.

Here is another example taken from his speech in what is known as the White Murder Case:

An aged man, without an enemy in the world, in his own house, and in his own bed, is made the victim of a butcherly murder, for mere pay. The deed was executed with a degree of self-possession and steadiness equal to the wickedness with which it was planned. The circumstances, now clearly in evidence, spread out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had fallen on the destined victim, and on all beneath his roof. A healthful old man, to whom sleep was sweet, the first sound slumbers held him in their soft but strong embrace. The assassin enters through the window, already prepared, into an unoccupied apartment. With noiseless foot he paces the lonely hall, half-lighted by the moon—he winds up in the ascent of stairs, and reaches the door of the chamber. Of this he moves the lock, by soft and continued pressure, till it turns on its hinges without noise; and he enters, and beholds his victim before him.

This is certainly vividly drawn, and it shows the effectiveness of stating important things by means of pictures. Writers of good prose, as well as poets, use the figure of speech for creating mental images by means of the written word, and the speaker who employs the spoken word for producing like results will surely meet with like success. Emerson, in writing on this subject, produces a striking picture. In his essay on “Poetry and Imagination,” he says:

The poet gives us the eminent experiences only—a god stepping from peak to peak, nor planting his foot but on a mountain.

Shakespeare creates a marvellous picture thus:

Look here, upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
See what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hyperion’s curls, the front of Jove himself,
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
A station like the herald Mercury
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal
To give the world assurance of a man. [1]

Note the ascending force of this extract from Hamlet. The drawing of the picture, delineating the brow, hair, eyes, etc., the description of the bearing, and the final summing up,

A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal
To give the world assurance of a man.

It would seem to be impossible for mortal man to make a picture more vivid than is the one here presented in words by the magic art of Shakespeare.

the use of word-pictures

What benefit is to be derived from the use of word-pictures?

An illustration, or picture, is quickly comprehended, and will abide with the hearer when plain facts and colorless words are forgotten. Christ did the most of His teaching by means of similitudes: “The sower and the seed,” “The laborers in the vineyard,” “The ten virgins,” are but instances of His employment of this means of conveying an insight into difficult problems. In fact, in the Gospel according to St. Matthew, xiii:34, it is stated:

All these things spake Jesus unto the multitude in parables: and without a parable spoke he not unto them.

Henry Ward Beecher, in his sermon, “Poverty and the Gospel,” used this figure of speech:

On the Niagara River logs come floating down and strike an island, and there they lodge and accumulate for a little while, and won’t go over. But the rains come, the snow melts, the river rises, and the logs are lifted up and down, and they go swinging over the falls. There is a certain river of political life, and everything has to go into it first or last; and if, in the days to come, a man separates himself from his fellows without sympathy, if his wealth and power make poverty feel itself more poor and men’s misery more miserable, and set against him the whole stream of popular feeling, that man is in danger.

From what source is the speaker to take his illustrations?

From all sources: history, books, his own experience, and, best of all, nature. Emerson states the matter in this comprehensive manner:

I had rather have a good symbol of my thought, or a good analogy, than the suffrage of Kant or Plato. If you agree with me, or if Locke or Montesquieu agree, I may yet be wrong; but if the elm-tree thinks the same thing, if running water, if burning coal, if crystals, if alkalies, in their several fashions, say what I say, it must be true.

How is the speaker to make the picture so vivid that it will be immediately seen and comprehended by the listener?

By seeing it himself. The speaker must see with his mind’s eye the complete picture before he utters the first word descriptive of it. He must first see the picture in its entirety and be sure of his application of it before starting on the word-picturing, and as he develops the picture step by step, or phrase by phrase, he must keep in mind not only that portion of the picture he is then describing but must retain the picture in its entirety. This will cause his mentality to go into his voice, help him to hold on to his thought, and stamp the picture upon the minds and hearts of his listeners.

the use of stories

Stories introduced into speeches, if really introduced and not dragged in, serve many useful purposes. They attract the attention of the audience and secure for the speaker an opportunity entertainingly to commence his remarks instead of abruptly jumping into them, like a speaker bounding upon the platform instead of walking gracefully upon it; they often express in a few words what otherwise would require a long explanation; and they also permit a speaker to retire in an effective manner from an awkward or embarrassing situation. This last point is illustrated in the following story told by Rev. Joseph Parker and used by him as a wedge to get out of a meeting without offending the feelings of the other members. It created a good-natured laugh, and this made the opening that permitted the reverend gentleman gracefully to retire.

“Now, my dear children,” said the good priest, “where shall we put St. Patrick? Shall we put him where the sapphire river rolls around the throne of the Almighty? No; we will not put him there. Shall we put him where the golden light plays around the golden city? No; we will not put him there. Shall we put him in a boat sailing over the golden lake when the angels are calling? No; we will not put him there.” For a fourth time he demanded in a loud voice: “Where shall we put St. Patrick?” Then at that moment a peasant called out: “Well then, shure, you can put him here, for I’m going.”

Robert Browning, in a most entertaining letter addressed to Elizabeth Barrett, under date of April 8, 1846, discoursed on several subjects, among them being the proposition that repentance must precede forgiveness, and to illustrate his idea he narrated the following story, which might be used effectively in a speech:

Some soldiers were talking over a watch fire abroad. One said that once he was travelling in Scotland and knocked at a cottage-door. An old woman with one child let him in, gave him a supper and a bed. Next morning he asked her how they lived, and she said, the cow, the milk of which he was drinking, and the kale in the garden, such as he was eating—were all her “marlien” or sustenance—whereon, rising to go, he for the fun, “killed the cow and destroyed the kale”—“the old witch crying out she should certainly be starved”—then he went his way. “And she was starved, of course,” said a young man; “do you rue it?”—The other laughed, “Rue aught like that!”—The young man said, “I was the boy, and that was my mother—now then!”—(pierces him with his sword). “If you had rued it”—the youth said—“You should have answered it only to God!”

John P. Curran, at the trial of the Drogheda Defenders, April 23, 1794, told this story, in order to make clear his views regarding the strength that exists in unity:

Upon this principle acted the dying man whose family had been disturbed by domestic contentions. Upon his death-bed he calls his children around him; he orders a bundle of twigs to be brought; he has them untied; he gives to each of them a single twig; he orders them to be broken—and it is done with facility. He next orders the twigs to be united in a bundle, and orders each of them to try their strength upon it. They shrink from the task as impossible. Thus my children, continued the old man, it is union alone that can render you secure against the attempts of your enemies, and preserve you in that state of happiness which I wish you to enjoy.

In the celebrated case of People vs. Durant, tried in San Francisco, Cal., in the year 1895, the district attorney, William S. Barnes, as demonstrating the fallacy of direct evidence where the witness endeavors to “back up” that evidence with circumstances which existed only in the fancy of the witness, or were “manufactured out of whole cloth,” used this effective illustration:

There is a time-honored story which is commonly used as an illustration in the trial of cases. It is of a will case, that contest being over its probate. Counsel asked the proponent who sealed the will and she said the testator did. She had provided the material for the sealing, but the deceased had placed the wax in the candle and had pressed the seal in her presence. Counsel then turned to the Court and said: “Your worship, it is a wafer.” This is the wafer in the case.

summary

Do not the citations given in this chapter show conclusively that modern and ancient modes of constructing orations are identical, and that it would be well for all who would attain distinction as speakers to study the means employed by those who have gone before? The author replies in the affirmative, and he reiterates his advice to all students of oratory to study faithfully the productions of the great orators of all times. In doing this, the student should be careful not to be a mere copyist; he must not make an echo of himself, repeating the forms of others, but he should study the principles underlying the arts of construction and delivery as employed by the masters who preceded him, and then apply the principles in his own individual manner. A student who is taught parrot fashion—that is, by imitation—will never equal his teacher, because he will lack the one great thing of value in every art—individuality; but one who is taught by principle, as well as by example, may far excel his preceptor. Issues and problems change, orators pass into the realm of shade; but the principles of oratory continue practically the same through all climes and ages.

FOOTNOTES:

[1]Hamlet, Act III, Scene IV.

CHAPTER II

HOW TO CONSTRUCT AND DELIVER ORATIONS

the application of the means

The previous chapter was used to show what means orators employed in constructing their oratory, and this chapter will be devoted to showing students how to adopt and use those means. It would be of little use to tell students of oratory how others made their effects unless they are shown how they can produce equal results; therefore this chapter will be a chapter of hows. It will consider the proper arrangement of all the forms of creating and delivering the oratorical message, and deal at length with the conveying of the thought by means of the putting together of words and interpreting it through an understanding and an application of inflection and emphasis. It has been shown that oratory, through all its existence, has been created by means of the effective use of negative and positive words, phrases, and sentences; correct application of apposition and opposition; proper grouping of words and phrases in the form of series; the driving home and clinching of points; and many other ways of conveying thought by means of speech, and that these means have been passed from Gorgias to Isaeus, from Isaeus to Demosthenes, from Demosthenes to Cicero, and from these masters of old transmitted to Webster, Clay, Lincoln, Roosevelt, Bryan, Watterson, and the other able and careful public speakers of our day. Not only will the arrangement of words be thoroughly considered, but their utterance will receive much attention, the aim of the author being to show how, by the inflection, emphasis, and tone of the living voice, thought can be interpreted, and an impression made by the speaker on the minds and actions of others by means of the spoken word. Attention will also be given to getting the mentality into the voice, making the soul of the speaker shine through the medium that is to make the thought apparent to the listener.

inflection

What is inflection? Inflection is a bending of the voice.

How many inflections are there? Two. The rising and the falling.

What does the rising inflection signify? The rising inflection, in the main, signifies uncertainty. Whatever is uncertain, negative, qualified, conditional, incomplete, or continuous, requires the rising inflection; as,

Uncertainty. A government having at its command the armies, the fleets, and the revenues of Great Britain, might possibly hold Ireland by the sword. . . . But, to govern Great Britain by the sword—so wild a thought has never, I will venture to say, occurred to any public man of any party.

—Macaulay

In this example the first sentence is uncertain because Ireland might possibly be held by the sword, but it is not certain that it could be. The second sentence is assertive, and requires the falling inflection.

Negative. He have arbitrary power! My Lords, the East India Company have not arbitrary power to give him; the King has no arbitrary power to give him; your Lordships have not; nor the Commons; nor the whole legislature. We have no arbitrary power to give, because arbitrary power is a thing which neither any man can hold nor any man can give.

—Burke

Here is a splendid string of negatives, not demonstratively spoken, but given in the form of clear argumentation, and for that reason every member requires the rising inflection. The opening exclamation, “He have arbitrary power,” should be given the falling inflection because it is a positive denial of his right to possess it. Were this extract spoken vehemently instead of argumentatively, it would take the falling inflection on all its members; but it is clearly intended to be negatively spoken, because the orator immediately follows it with positive statements, thus denoting a contrast. Therefore the exclamation alone is given the falling inflection.

Exception. It should be remembered that only while the thought is negative should the words be given the rising inflection, and that whenever emphasis is placed on the negative word it removes the negative quality and makes the thought positive, thus necessitating the use of the falling inflection. Consequently, whenever a negative is used in the sense of a contradiction it should be given the falling inflection, because it is just as positive to deny the assertion of a speaker as it is for the speaker to make the assertion; as,

I am charged with being an emissary of France. An emissary of France! and for what end? It is alleged that I wish to sell the independence of my country! and for what end? Was this the object of my ambition; and is this the mode by which a tribunal of justice reconciles contradictions? No! I am no emissary.

—Robert Emmet

The positive statement is, “I am charged with being an emissary of France”; and the contradiction, “No! I am no emissary.” Emphasis being placed on the negative word “no” necessitates the falling inflection being used in order to make the contradiction positive.

Qualified Negative. A negative is qualified when it is restricted in any manner by the use of such words as “only,” “alone,” “merely,” etc., such words receiving the inflection and being negatived; as,

In reading great orations one not only learns something of the methods and style of the orator, but obtains an epitome of the history of the times.

—William Jennings Bryan

Mr. Bryan here states that by means of reading one learns something of the methods and style of the orator, and also gains an epitome of the history of the times; and that he does not only learn the former, but that he also gains the latter. In this sentence everything is positive except the negatived word “only,” this being the only word in the sentence that is acted upon by the negative word “not,” because the reader learns something of the methods and style of the orator, but not only this, because he obtains an epitome of the history of the times as well. “Only,” being the negatived word (the word upon which the negative acts), it should be given the rising inflection, while the balance of the sentence, being positive, should be given the falling inflection.

Qualified. I believe in the doctrine of peace; but, Mr. President, men must have liberty before there can come abiding peace.

—John M. Thurston

The phrase, “I believe in the doctrine of peace,” is qualified by the concluding statement, “men must have liberty before there can come abiding peace”; and any expression that is qualified should be given the rising inflection. In this example Senator Thurston states that he believes in peace, provided peace can be had with liberty; but that if the loss of liberty is the price exacted for peace, then he prefers war. In order to convey the meaning of this example, the first phrase should be given the rising inflection and the last phrase the falling; the qualified taking the rising, and the concluding the falling inflection.

Conditional. If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude than the animating contest of freedom, go from us in peace.

—Samuel Adams

Here we have two conditional phrases and one concluding phrase. All expressions that are conditional in character require the rising inflection, and the clause that concludes the sentence takes the inflection that interprets the thought. Therefore, if the concluding clause is positive, as in this example, it should be given the falling inflection; but if negative, it should be given the rising inflection. There is no exception to the conditional clause taking the rising inflection, because it is always uncertain in character, and whatever is uncertain should always be given the rising inflection, but the concluding clause, whenever it is negative, is given the rising inflection; as,

So, on the other hand, if I take the life of another, without being aware of any intended violence on his part, it will constitute no excuse for me to prove that he intended an attack upon me.

—Sargent S. Prentiss

Continuity. Whenever the thought is continuous the rising inflection should be employed until a conclusion is reached; as,

In speaking to you, men of the greatest city of the West, men of the state which gave to the country Lincoln and Grant, men who preëminently and distinctly embody all that is most American in the American character, I wish to preach, not the doctrine of ignoble ease, but the doctrine of the strenuous life, the life of toil and effort, of labor and strife.

—Roosevelt

The thought here is continuous and incomplete until we come to the phrase “the doctrine of the strenuous life,” and in order to obtain an unbroken flow of speech the rising inflection should be used until the close of the negative phrase “not the doctrine of ignoble ease,” but from there to the end of the sentence the falling inflection should be used because of its positive character and the fact that the thought is practically complete with the utterance of the phrase “but the doctrine of the strenuous life,” all that follows being merely an amplification.

questions

How many kinds of questions are there? Two.

What are they called? They are called direct and indirect.

What difference is there between these two kinds of questions? The direct question may be answered by either yes or no; the indirect question is answered by a statement or explanation. Usually there is uncertainty as to the answer to the direct question, and therefore the question should generally be given the rising inflection, but as soon as uncertainty ceases to exist as to the answer to a question, it should be given the falling inflection. Therefore, if the speaker knows that the answer is sure to be yes, or if he knows that the answer is sure to be no, the question should take the falling inflection, for then there would be no uncertainty as to the reply to the question. On the other hand, if, for any reason, the quality of uncertainty exists in the indirect question, it should be given the rising inflection. The general supposition regarding questions is that they usually require the rising inflection, but the reverse of this is the fact. A question should only be given the rising inflection when the speaker is not sure as to whether the answer will be yes or no, or when an indirect question is expressive of the uncertainty of the speaker; as, What did you say? Direct questions, whenever the answer is anticipated, or the question repeated with marked emphasis, or spoken with earnestness in the shape of an appeal, should be given the falling inflection; as,

Immortal spirits of Hampden, Locke, and Sidney, will it not add to your benevolent joys to behold your posterity rising to the dignity of men, and evincing to the world the reality and expediency of your systems, and in the actual enjoyment of that equal liberty, which you were happy, when on earth, in delineating and recommending to mankind?

—Samuel Adams

The falling inflection should be given this direct question because the anticipated answer is yes.

The falling inflection should be given a direct question such as,

Has the gentlemen done? has he completely done?

The reason the falling inflection is here used is that the question is repeated with marked emphasis, and whenever a question is so repeated it should be given the falling inflection on the repetition.

The falling inflection should also be given all direct questions that are earnest appeals; as,

Will you please forgive me?

Direct Question. Undoubtedly the world is better; but would it have been better if everybody had then insisted that it was the best of all possible worlds, and that we must despond if sometimes a cloud gathers in the sky, or a Benedict Arnold appeared in the patriot army, or even a Judas Iscariot among the chosen twelve?

—George W. Curtis

Indirect Question. When, O Catiline, do you mean to cease abusing our patience? How long is that madness of yours still to mock us? When is there to be an end of that unbridled audacity of yours, swaggering about as it does now?

—Cicero

A direct question is sometimes used in the form of a statement; as,

The constitutional question is: Has Congress the power, under our Constitution, to hold in subjection unwilling vassal states?

—George F. Hoar

This is a direct question, but because it is a statement put forth to be argued it should be given the falling inflection. If a request is made of a presiding officer for information regarding what question is then before the body, and the officer replies with a direct question, he should give it the falling inflection, because he does not speak it as a question but as a statement in reply to the member’s question as to what is then before the meeting.

What does the falling inflection signify?

The falling inflection, in the main, signifies certainty. The arrival at a result, commands (whether negatively or positively constructed), and all positive words, phrases, and sentences, require, as a rule, the falling inflection.

The Arrival at a Result. We are all born in subjection, all born equally, high and low, governors and governed, in subjection to one great, immutable pre-existent law, prior to all our devices, and prior to all our contrivances, paramount to all our ideas, and all our sensations, antecedent to our very existence, by which we are knit and connected to the eternal frame of the universe, out of which we cannot stir.

—Burke

The result here is not reached until we come to the final phrase “out of which we cannot stir,” and although this is a negative phrase, so far as the construction goes, it requires the falling inflection because it closes the thought and is positive in its nature.

Commands. These things I command you, that ye love one another.

—St. John, xv., 17

This is a commandment given by Jesus to His disciples, and both phrases require the falling inflection. It makes no difference whether the command is to do or not to do a certain thing, all commandments, of whatever nature, require falling inflection; as,

Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.

—Exodus, xx., 4

Also, Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.

—Exodus, xx., 12

Positive. To the cant about the pharisaism of reform there is one short and final answer. The man who tells the truth is a holier man than the liar. The man who does not steal is a better man than the thief.

—George W. Curtis

All positive words, phrases, and sentences require, as a rule, the falling inflection, the only exception being when the words or phrases are arranged in the form of a series. This point is fully brought out and developed in the treatment of series in another part of this chapter.

Qualified Positives. The words “only,” “alone,” “merely,” etc., when not qualified by the negative word “not,” generally qualify some other word or phrase; as,

Every thing around was wrapped in darkness, and hushed in silence, broken only by what seemed, at that hour, the unearthly clank and rush of the train.

—Edward Everett

Here “only” qualifies what the silence was broken by. The meaning being that it was broken by but one thing, and that was “the unearthly clank and rush of the train.” “Only,” in this example, requires the falling inflection because it is positive.

Apposition. By means of the addition of words or phrases of like natures, we illustrate and explain; as,

The hardest chemist, the severest analyzer, scornful of all but the driest fact, is forced to keep the poetic curve of nature, and his result is like a myth of Theocritus.[1]

—Emerson

“The severest analyzer” is employed to explain what “the hardest chemist” is, therefore the two phrases are in apposition. This form of construction is often used in explaining who persons are; as,

I, Henry V, King of England, etc.

All these terms are in apposition and should receive the same inflection, because identity of inflection conveys similarity of thought. Here is another good example of apposition:

Identity of law, perfect order in physics, perfect parallelism between the laws of nature and the laws of thought exist.

—Emerson

emphasis

What is emphasis? Any impressive utterance that arrests the attention of the listener.

Is it placed merely on single words? No. It may be placed on individual words, phrases, or sentences.

Does it consist of force alone? No. Emphasis consists of time, pitch, force, quality, and location.

Time. By time is meant the rapidity of utterance; as,

With noiseless foot he paces the lonely hall, half lighted by the moon—he winds up the ascent of stairs, and reaches the door of the chamber.

—Daniel Webster

The idea is here brought out by means of the slow, measured manner in which the murderer is described noiselessly passing through the lonely hall and winding up the stairway. If this passage were quickly and violently spoken, a mis-interpretation would be given it. Time, in this instance, gives emphasis to the thought.

The light of the newly kindled sun, indeed, was glorious. It struck upon all the planets, and waked into existence their myriad capacities of life and joy. As it rebounded from them, and showed their vast orbs all wheeling, circle beyond circle in their stupendous course, the sons of God shouted for joy.

—Horace Mann

This passage is also made emphatic by the time employed. It requires rapidity of utterance in order to express the ideas of the awakening of life and the joy of man.

Pitch. By pitch is meant the tone of voice employed—its height or depth; as,

With simple resignation, he [Garfield] bowed to the divine decree.

—James G. Blaine

The words “With simple resignation” require simplicity of voice, but the phrase “he bowed to the divine decree” should be spoken in a low, impressive tone, the better to express the feeling of reverence. The idea is here conveyed as much by the pitch of the voice as by the words themselves.

People of Hungary! will you die under the exterminating sword of the savage Russians? If not, defend yourselves! Will you look on while the Cossacks of the far North tread under foot the bodies of your fathers, mothers, wives, and children? If not, defend yourselves! Will you see a part of your fellow citizens sent to the wilds of Siberia, made to serve in the wars of tyrants, or bleed under the murderous knout? If not, defend yourselves! Will you behold your villages in flames, and your harvests destroyed? Will you die of hunger on the land which your sweat has made fertile? If not, defend yourselves!

—Louis Kossuth

This example must be spoken in an inspiring tone; the oft-repeated phrase, “If not, defend yourselves,” should be given a gradual rise in pitch on each repetition until the final one is spoken almost in a shout. It is this gradual change in pitch that increases the emphasis on this important phrase each time it is spoken.

Force. By force is meant the loudness of voice; as,

For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

—Patrick Henry

By means of the force placed upon the words “whole,” “worst,” and “provide,” the thought is driven home with earnestness, and as the words grow in importance the force of the voice should increase. It is mainly by means of this gradual increase in the force of the voice that an ascending series is marked; as,

Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult, our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne!

—Patrick Henry

The earnestness and force of the speaker’s delivery should grow with each succeeding phrase, until it bursts out with its greatest power and expression on the final one. Care should be exercised to go from one phrase to another by a gradual increase of force, culminating on the concluding phrase.

All important or significant words require emphasis by means of force; as,

It must be confessed, it will be confessed; there is no refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide is confession.

—Daniel Webster

Quality. By quality is meant the kind of voice—whether it is smooth or rough, rich or poor, large or small, expressive or non-expressive of the many emotions which the human voice is capable of producing. A tone may be raucous, because it is held in the throat; it may be nasal, through being held in the head; it may be breathy, through a waste of breath; or, on the other hand, it may possess those qualities of clearness, smoothness, and richness that come only from a properly developed and correctly used vocal mechanism. The quality of the voice may be pure, aspirated, or whispered; as,

Pure Quality. This uncounted multitude before me and around me proves the feeling which the occasion has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing with sympathy and joy, and from the impulses of a common gratitude turned reverently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firmament, proclaim that the day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling here made a deep impression on our hearts.

—Daniel Webster

This example should be spoken in a clear, ringing, buoyant voice; and, if so spoken, the quality would be pure.

Aspirated Quality. Gracious God! In the nineteenth century to talk of constructive treason!

—William Pinkney

The words, “Gracious God!” are expressive of repressed indignation and should be uttered in a tone that is only partly vocalized; and, when so spoken, the quality is aspirated. An aspirated tone is one that is surrounded with breath, only a portion of which is vocalized.

Whispered Quality. The whisper is seldom used by the orator, but is often employed by the actor. Whispered speech is speech that is produced by the articulation of breath without that breath being converted into voice. For instance, when Hamlet sees the ghost of his father he articulates, but does not vocalize, the following:

Angels and ministers of grace defend us!

—Shakespeare

Hamlet is so awed by the presence of the spirit of his father as to be deprived of the use of his voice, although he retains the ability to speak, and when one produces speech without voice he is using the whispered quality. The whisper is articulated breath, but not vocalized breath. It is speech, but not voice.

Location. By location is meant the position that the word or phrase holds in the sentence. If the emphasis is properly built up, the speaker will move from the weaker to the stronger, from the lesser to the greater; as,

Here, then, are the three liberties: liberty of the producer, liberty of the distributer, liberty of the consumer. The first two need no discussion—they have been long, thoroughly, and brilliantly illustrated by the political economists of Great Britain, and by her eminent statesmen; but it seems to me that enough attention has not been directed to the third, and, with your patience, I will dwell on that for a moment before proceeding to other topics.

—Henry Ward Beecher

Mr. Beecher states that his intention is to speak on the liberty of the consumer; therefore, in enumerating the three liberties, he places the one he intends to discuss in the vantage position—the last.

When a word, phrase, or sentence is set against another word, phrase, or sentence, both members of the opposition require emphasis; as,

Law and arbitrary power are in eternal enmity.

—Edmund Burke

The placing of “law” against “arbitrary power” requires that the opposing words should be made emphatic by means of emphasis as well as by inflection. All words or thoughts that are contrasted (single, double, or triple opposition) should be emphasized by the application of force, and the contrast brought out through the proper placing of the inflection. It is by means of inflection and emphasis that all contrasts in delivery are marked.

The repetition of a word or phrase requires that the repetition should be made more emphatic than the first utterance by means of greater force; as,

They have answered then, that although two hundred thousand of their countrymen have offered up their lives, there yet remain lives to offer; and that it is the determination of all, yes, of all, to persevere until they shall have established their liberty, or until the power of their oppressors should have relieved them from the burden of existence.

—Daniel Webster

A series of emphatic words requires that there should be a general increase in force on all the members of the series; as,

The universal cry is—let us move against Philip—let us fight for our liberties—LET US CONQUER OR DIE.

—R. B. Sheridan

Where a word is used to qualify another, the qualifying word should be emphasized; as,

They planned no sluggard people, passive while the world’s work calls them. They established no reactionary nation. They unfurled no retreating flag.

—Albert J. Beveridge

The fathers planted a people, established a nation, and unfurled a flag; but they did not plant a sluggard people, establish a reactionary nation, nor unfurl a retreating flag. It is by means of placing the emphasis on the qualifying words in this example that the meaning is instantly interpreted.

Some years ago a critic,[2] in commenting on E. H. Sothern’s reading of the line from The Love Chase, “The cause of causes, lady,” justly criticised him for emphasizing the unimportant word of, but the critic himself fell into as great an error as the actor when he cited the following as correct placing of emphasis: My heart of hearts, the man of men, great among the greatest, mightiest in the mightiest, and cause of causes. The meaning in each instance is best brought out by placing the principal emphasis on heart, man, great, mightiest, and cause, and secondary emphasis on hearts, men, greatest, mightiest, and causes. The ideas being that it is in the very center of the heart, that he towers above all others, that it is stronger than all others, and that it is the creator of creatures. Therefore the phrases should read: My heart of hearts, the man of men, great among the greatest, mightiest in the mightiest,, the cause of causes.

The same critic, a little further on in the same book,[3] takes Julie Marlowe to task for reading the following lines from Romeo and Juliet thus:

Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

He states it should be read:

Deny thy father and refuse thy name.