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The Art of Public SpeakingDale Breckenridge CarnegiePublished: 1905Categorie(s): Non-Fiction, Human Science, Language arts & disciplines, Public Speaking

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The Art of Public SpeakingDale Breckenridge Carnegie

Published: 1905Categorie(s): Non-Fiction, Human Science,Language arts & disciplines, Public SpeakingSource: http://www.gutenberg.org

About Carnegie:Dale Breckenridge Carnegie

(originally Carnagey until 1922 andpossibly somewhat later) (November24, 1888 – November 1, 1955) was anAmerican writer and lecturer and thedeveloper of famous courses in self-improvement, salesmanship, corporatetraining, public speaking andinterpersonal skills. Born in poverty ona farm in Missouri, he was the author ofHow to Win Friends and InfluencePeople, first published in 1936, amassive bestseller that remains populartoday. He also wrote a biography ofAbraham Lincoln, titled Lincoln theUnknown, as well as several otherbooks. Carnegie was an early proponent

of what is now called responsibilityassumption, although this only appearsminutely in his written work. One of thecore ideas in his books is that it ispossible to change other people'sbehavior by changing one's reaction tothem.

Copyright: This work is available forcountries where copyright is Life+50 orin the USA (published before 1923).

Note: This book is brought to you byFeedbookshttp://www.feedbooks.comStrictly for personal use, do not use thisfile for commercial purposes.

THINGS TO THINK OFFIRST: A FOREWORD

The efficiency of a book is like that of aman, in one important respect: itsattitude toward its subject is the firstsource of its power. A book may be fullof good ideas well expressed, but if itswriter views his subject from the wrongangle even his excellent advice mayprove to be ineffective.

This book stands or falls by itsauthors' attitude toward its subject. If thebest way to teach oneself or others tospeak effectively in public is to fill themind with rules, and to set up fixedstandards for the interpretation of

thought, the utterance of language, themaking of gestures, and all the rest, thenthis book will be limited in value to suchstray ideas throughout its pages as mayprove helpful to the reader—as an effortto enforce a group of principles it mustbe reckoned a failure, because it is thenuntrue.

It is of some importance, therefore, tothose who take up this volume with openmind that they should see clearly at theout-start what is the thought that at onceunderlies and is builded through thisstructure. In plain words it is this:

Training in public speaking is not amatter of externals—primarily; it is not amatter of imitation—fundamentally; it isnot a matter of conformity to standards—

at all. Public speaking is publicutterance, public issuance, of the manhimself; therefore the first thing both intime and in importance is that the manshould be and think and feel things thatare worthy of being given forth. Unlessthere be something of value within, notricks of training can ever make of thetalker anything more than a machine—albeit a highly perfected machine—forthe delivery of other men's goods. Soself-development is fundamental in ourplan.

The second principle lies close to thefirst: The man must enthrone his will torule over his thought, his feelings, andall his physical powers, so that the outerself may give perfect, unhampered

expression to the inner. It is futile, weassert, to lay down systems of rules forvoice culture, intonation, gesture, andwhat not, unless these two principles ofhaving something to say and making thewill sovereign have at least begun tomake themselves felt in the life.

The third principle will, we surmise,arouse no dispute: No one canlearn how to speak who does not firstspeak as best he can. That may seem likea vicious circle in statement, but it willbear examination.

Many teachers have begun withthe how. Vain effort! It is an ancienttruism that we learn to do by doing. Thefirst thing for the beginner in publicspeaking is to speak—not to study voice

and gesture and the rest. Once he hasspoken he can improve himself by self-observation or according to thecriticisms of those who hear.

But how shall he be able to criticisehimself? Simply by finding out threethings: What are the qualities which bycommon consent go to make up aneffective speaker; by what means at leastsome of these qualities may be acquired;and what wrong habits of speech inhimself work against his acquiring andusing the qualities which he finds to begood.

Experience, then, is not only the bestteacher, but the first and the last. Butexperience must be a dual thing—theexperience of others must be used to

supplement, correct and justify our ownexperience; in this way we shall becomeour own best critics only after we havetrained ourselves in self-knowledge, theknowledge of what other minds think,and in the ability to judge ourselves bythe standards we have come to believeare right. "If I ought," said Kant, "I can."

An examination of the contents of thisvolume will show how consistentlythese articles of faith have beendeclared, expounded, and illustrated.The student is urged to begin to speak atonce of what he knows. Then he is givensimple suggestions for self-control, withgradually increasing emphasis upon thepower of the inner man over the outer.Next, the way to the rich storehouses of

material is pointed out. And finally, allthe while he is urged tospeak, speak, SPEAK as he is applyingto his own methods, in hisown personalway, the principles he hasgathered from his own experience andobservation and the recordedexperiences of others.

So now at the very first let it be asclear as light that methods are secondarymatters; that the full mind, the warmheart, the dominant will are primary—and not only primary but paramount; forunless it be a full being that uses themethods it will be like dressing awooden image in the clothes of a man.

J. BERG ESENWEIN.NARBERTH, PA.,

JANUARY 1, 1915.

Sense never fails to give them thathave it, Words enough to makethem understood. It too oftenhappens in some conversations, asin Apothecary Shops, that thosePots that are Empty, or have Thingsof small Value in them, are asgaudily Dress'd as those that arefull of precious Drugs.They that soar too high, often fallhard, making a low and levelDwelling preferable. The tallestTrees are most in the Power of theWinds, and Ambitious Men of theBlasts of Fortune. Buildings haveneed of a good Foundation, that lieso much exposed to the Weather.

—William Penn.

1ChapterACQUIRINGCONFIDENCEBEFORE ANAUDIENCE

There is a strange sensation oftenexperienced in the presence of anaudience. It may proceed from thegaze of the many eyes that turn upon

the speaker, especially if hepermits himself to steadily returnthat gaze. Most speakers have beenconscious of this in a namelessthrill, a real something, pervadingthe atmosphere, tangible,evanescent, indescribable. Allwriters have borne testimony to thepower of a speaker's eye inimpressing an audience. Thisinfluence which we are nowconsidering is the reverse of thatpicture—the power their eyes mayexert upon him, especially beforehe begins to speak: after the inwardfires of oratory are fanned intoflame the eyes of the audience loseall terror.—William

Pittenger, Extempore Speech.

Students of public speakingcontinually ask, "How can I overcomeself-consciousness and the fear thatparalyzes me before an audience?"

Did you ever notice in looking from atrain window that some horses feed nearthe track and never even pause to lookup at the thundering cars, while justahead at the next railroad crossing afarmer's wife will be nervously trying toquiet her scared horse as the train goesby?

How would you cure a horse that isafraid of cars—graze him in a back-woods lot where he would never seesteam-engines or automobiles, or drive

or pasture him where he wouldfrequently see the machines?

Apply horse-sense to ridding yourselfof self-consciousness and fear: face anaudience as frequently as you can, andyou will soon stop shying. You cannever attain freedom from stage-fright byreading a treatise. A book may give youexcellent suggestions on how best toconduct yourself in the water, but sooneror later you must get wet, perhaps evenstrangle and be "half scared to death."There are a great many "wetless" bathingsuits worn at the seashore, but no oneever learns to swim in them. To plungeis the only way.

Practi se , practise, PRACTISE inspeaking before an audience will tend to

remove all fear of audiences, just aspractise in swimming will lead toconfidence and facility in the water. Youmust learn to speak by speaking.

The Apostle Paul tells us that everyman must work out his own salvation.All we can do here is to offer yousuggestions as to how best to prepare foryour plunge. The real plunge no one cantake for you. A doctor may prescribe,but you must take the medicine.

Do not be disheartened if at first yousuffer from stage-fright. Dan Patch wasmore susceptible to suffering than asuperannuated dray horse would be. Itnever hurts a fool to appear before anaudience, for his capacity is not acapacity for feeling. A blow that would

kill a civilized man soon heals on asavage. The higher we go in the scale oflife, the greater is the capacity forsuffering.

For one reason or another, somemaster-speakers never entirelyovercome stage-fright, but it will payyou to spare no pains to conquer it.Daniel Webster failed in his firstappearance and had to take his seatwithout finishing his speech because hewas nervous. Gladstone was oftentroubled with self-consciousness in thebeginning of an address. Beecher wasalways perturbed before talking inpublic.

Blacksmiths sometimes twist a ropetight around the nose of a horse, and by

thus inflicting a little pain they distracthis attention from the shoeing process.One way to get air out of a glass is topour in water.

Be Absorbed by Your SubjectApply the blacksmith's homely

principle when you are speaking. If youfeel deeply about your subject you willbe able to think of little else.Concentration is a process of distractionfrom less important matters. It is too lateto think about the cut of your coat whenonce you are upon the platform, socentre your interest on what you areabout to say—fill your mind with yourspeech-material and, like the infillingwater in the glass, it will drive out yourunsubstantial fears.

Self-consciousness is undueconsciousness of self, and, for thepurpose of delivery, self is secondary toyour subject, not only in the opinion ofthe audience, but, if you are wise, inyour own. To hold any other view is toregard yourself as an exhibit instead ofas a messenger with a message worthdelivering. Do you remember ElbertHubbard's tremendous little tract, "AMessage to Garcia"? The youthsubordinated himself to the message hebore. So must you, by all thedetermination you can muster. It is sheeregotism to fill your mind with thoughtsof self when a greater thing is there—TRUTH. Say this to yourself sternly,and shame your self-consciousness

into quiescence. If the theater caught fireyou could rush to the stage and shoutdirections to the audience without anyself-consciousness, for the importance ofwhat you were saying would drive allfear-thoughts out of your mind.

Far worse than self-consciousnessthrough fear of doing poorly is self-consciousness through assumption ofdoing well. The first sign of greatness iswhen a man does not attempt to look andact great. Before you can call yourself aman at all, Kipling assures us, you must"not look too good nor talk too wise."

Nothing advertises itself sothoroughly as conceit. One may be sofull of self as to be empty. Voltaire said,"We must conceal self-love." But that

can not be done. You know this to betrue, for you have recognizedoverweening self-love in others. If youhave it, others are seeing it in you. Thereare things in this world bigger than self,and in working for them self will beforgotten, or—what is better—remembered only so as to help us wintoward higher things.

Have Something to SayThe trouble with many speakers is that

they go before an audience with theirminds a blank. It is no wonder thatnature, abhorring a vacuum, fills themwith the nearest thing handy, whichgenerally happens to be, "I wonder if Iam doing this right! How does my hairlook? I know I shall fail." Their

prophetic souls are sure to be right.It is not enough to be absorbed by

your subject—to acquire self-confidenceyou must have something in which to beconfident. If you go before an audiencewithout any preparation, or previousknowledge of your subject, you ought tobe self-conscious—you ought to beashamed to steal the time of youraudience. Prepare yourself. Know whatyou are going to talk about, and, ingeneral, how you are going to say it.Have the first few sentences worked outcompletely so that you may not betroubled in the beginning to find words.Know your subject better than yourhearers know it, and you have nothing tofear.

After Preparing for Success, ExpectIt

Let your bearing be modestlyconfident, but most of all be modestlyconfident within. Over-confidence isbad, but to tolerate premonitions offailure is worse, for a bold man may winattention by his very bearing, while arabbit-hearted coward invites disaster.

Humility is not the personal discountthat we must offer in the presence ofothers—against this old interpretationthere has been a most healthy modernreaction. True humility any man whothoroughly knows himself must feel; butit is not a humility that assumes a worm-like meekness; it is rather a strong,vibrant prayer for greater power for

service—a prayer that Uriah Heep couldnever have uttered.

Washington Irving once introducedCharles Dickens at a dinner given in thelatter's honor. In the middle of hisspeech Irving hesitated, becameembarrassed, and sat down awkwardly.Turning to a friend beside him heremarked, "There, I told you I wouldfail, and I did."

If you believe you will fail, there isno hope for you. You will.

Rid yourself of this I-am-a-poor-worm-in-the-dust idea. You are a god,with infinite capabilities. "All things areready if the mind be so." The eagle looksthe cloudless sun in the face.

Assume Mastery Over Your Audience

In public speech, as in electricity,there is a positive and a negative force.Either you or your audience are going topossess the positive factor. If youassume it you can almost invariablymake it yours. If you assume the negativeyou are sure to be negative. Assuming avirtue or a vice vitalizes it. Summon allyour power of self-direction, andremember that though your audience isinfinitely more important than you, thetruth is more important than both of you,because it is eternal. If your mind faltersin its leadership the sword will dropfrom your hands. Your assumption ofbeing able to instruct or lead or inspire amultitude or even a small group ofpeople may appall you as being colossal

impudence—as indeed it may be; buthaving once essayed to speak, becour ageous . BEcourageous—it lieswithin you to be what youw i l l . MAKE yourself be calm andconfident.

Reflect that your audience will nothurt you. If Beecher in Liverpool hadspoken behind a wire screen he wouldhave invited the audience to throw theover-ripe missiles with which they wereloaded; but he was a man, confronted hishostile hearers fearlessly—and wonthem.

In facing your audience, pause amoment and look them over—a hundredchances to one they want you to succeed,for what man is so foolish as to spend

his time, perhaps his money, in the hopethat you will waste his investment bytalking dully?

Concluding HintsDo not make haste to begin—haste

shows lack of control.Do not apologize. It ought not to be

necessary; and if it is, it will not help.Go straight ahead.

Take a deep breath, relax, and beginin a quiet conversational tone as thoughyou were speaking to one large friend.You will not find it half so bad as youimagined; really, it is like taking a coldplunge: after you are in, the water isfine. In fact, having spoken a few timesyou will even anticipate the plunge withexhilaration. To stand before an

audience and make them think yourthoughts after you is one of the greatestpleasures you can ever know. Instead offearing it, you ought to be as anxious asthe fox hounds straining at their leashes,or the race horses tugging at their reins.

So cast out fear, for fear is cowardly—when it is not mastered. The bravestknow fear, but they do not yield to it.Face your audience pluckily—if yourknees quake, MAKE them stop. In youraudience lies some victory for you andthe cause you represent. Go win it.Suppose Charles Martell had beenafraid to hammer the Saracen at Tours;suppose Columbus had feared to ventureout into the unknown West; suppose ourforefathers had been too timid to oppose

the tyranny of George the Third; supposethat any man who ever did anythingworth while had been a coward! Theworld owes its progress to the men whohave dared, and you must dare to speakthe effective word that is in your heart tospeak—for often it requires courage toutter a single sentence. But rememberthat men erect no monuments and weaveno laurels for those who fear to do whatthey can.

Is all this unsympathetic, do you say?Man, what you need is not sympathy,

but a push. No one doubts thattemperament and nerves and illness andeven praiseworthy modesty may, singlyor combined, cause the speaker's cheekto blanch before an audience, but neither

can any one doubt that coddling willmagnify this weakness. The victory liesin a fearless frame of mind. Prof. WalterDill Scott says: "Success or failure inbusiness is caused more by mentalattitude even than by mental capacity."Banish the fear-attitude; acquire theconfident attitude. And remember thatthe only way to acquire it is—to acquireit.

In this foundation chapter we havetried to strike the tone of much that is tofollow. Many of these ideas will beamplified and enforced in a morespecific way; but through all thesechapters on an art which Mr. Gladstonebelieved to be more powerful than thepublic press, the note of justifiable self-

confidence must sound again and again.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES. 1. What is the cause of self-

consciousness?2. Why are animals free from it?3. What is your observation regarding

self-consciousness in children?4. Why are you free from it under the

stress of unusual excitement?5. How does moderate excitement

affect you?6. What are the two fundamental

requisites for the acquiring of self-confidence? Which is the moreimportant?

7. What effect does confidence on the

part of the speaker have on theaudience?

8. Write out a two-minute speech on"Confidence and Cowardice."

9. What effect do habits of thoughthave on confidence? In this connectionread the chapter on "Right Thinking andPersonality."

10. Write out very briefly anyexperience you may have had involvingthe teachings of this chapter.

11. Give a three-minute talk on"Stage-Fright," including a (kindly)imitation of two or more victims.

2ChapterTHE SIN OFMONOTONY

One day Ennui was born fromUniformity.—Motte.

Our English has changed with theyears so that many words now connotemore than they did originally. This istrue of the wordmonotonous. From

"having but one tone," it has come tomean more broadly, "lack of variation."

The monotonous speaker not onlydrones along in the same volume andpitch of tone but uses always the sameemphasis, the same speed, the samethoughts—or dispenses with thoughtaltogether.

Monotony, the cardinal and mostcommon sin of the public speaker, is nota transgression—it is rather a sin ofomission, for it consists in living up tothe confession of the Prayer Book: "Wehave left undone those things we ought tohave done."

Emerson says, "The virtue of art liesin detachment, in sequestering one objectfrom the embarrassing variety." That is

just what the monotonous speaker failsto do—he does not detach one thought orphrase from another, they are allexpressed in the same manner.

To tell you that your speech ismonotonous may mean very little to you,so let us look at the nature—and thecurse—of monotony in other spheres oflife, then we shall appreciate more fullyhow it will blight an otherwise goodspeech.

If the Victrola in the adjoiningapartment grinds out just three selectionsover and over again, it is pretty safe toassume that your neighbor has no otherrecords. If a speaker uses only a few ofhis powers, it points very plainly to thefact that the rest of his powers are not

developed. Monotony reveals ourlimitations.

In its effect on its victim, monotony isactually deadly—it will drive the bloomfrom the cheek and the lustre from theeye as quickly as sin, and often leads toviciousness. The worst punishment thathuman ingenuity has ever been able toinvent is extreme monotony—solitaryconfinement. Lay a marble on the tableand do nothing eighteen hours of the daybut change that marble from one point toanother and back again, and you will goinsane if you continue long enough.

So this thing that shortens life, and isused as the most cruel of punishments inour prisons, is the thing that will destroyall the life and force of a speech. Avoid

it as you would shun a deadly dull bore.The "idle rich" can have half-a-dozenhomes, command all the varieties offoods gathered from the four corners ofthe earth, and sail for Africa or Alaskaat their pleasure; but the poverty-strickenman must walk or take a street car—hedoes not have the choice of yacht, auto,or special train. He must spend the mostof his life in labor and be content withthe staples of the food-market. Monotonyis poverty, whether in speech or in life.Strive to increase the variety of yourspeech as the business man labors toaugment his wealth.

Bird-songs, forest glens, andmountains are not monotonous—it is thelong rows of brown-stone fronts and the

miles of paved streets that are so terriblysame. Nature in her wealth gives usendless variety; man with his limitationsis often monotonous. Get back to naturein your methods of speech-making.

The power of variety lies in itspleasure-giving quality. The great truthsof the world have often been couched infascinating stories—"Les Miserables,"for instance. If you wish to teach orinfluence men, you must please them,first or last. Strike the same note on thepiano over and over again. This willgive you some idea of the displeasing,jarring effect monotony has on the ear.The dictionary defines "monotonous" asbeing synonymous with "wearisome."That is putting it mildly. It is maddening.

The department-store prince does notdisgust the public by playing only theone tune, "Come Buy My Wares!" Hegives recitals on a $125,000 organ, andthe pleased people naturally slip into abuying mood.

How to Conquer MonotonyWe obviate monotony in dress by

replenishing our wardrobes. We avoidmonotony in speech by multiplying ourpowers of speech. We multiply ourpowers of speech by increasing ourtools.

The carpenter has special implementswith which to construct the several partsof a building. The organist has certainkeys and stops which he manipulates toproduce his harmonies and effects. In

like manner the speaker has certaininstruments and tools at his command bywhich he builds his argument, plays onthe feelings, and guides the beliefs of hisaudience. To give you a conception ofthese instruments, and practical help inlearning to use them, are the purposes ofthe immediately following chapters.

Why did not the Children of Israelwhirl through the desert in limousines,and why did not Noah have moving-picture entertainments and talkingmachines on the Ark? The laws thatenable us to operate an automobile,produce moving-pictures, or music onthe Victrola, would have worked just aswell then as they do today. It wasignorance of law that for ages deprived

humanity of our modern conveniences.Many speakers still use ox-cart methodsin their speech instead of employingautomobile or overland-expressmethods. They are ignorant of laws thatmake for efficiency in speaking. Just tothe extent that you regard and use thelaws that we are about to examine andlearn how to use will you haveefficiency and force in your speaking;and just to the extent that you disregardthem will your speaking be feeble andineffective. We cannot impress toothoroughly upon you the necessity for areal working mastery of these principles.They are the very foundations ofsuccessful speaking. "Get yourprinciples right," said Napoleon, "and

the rest is a matter of detail."It is useless to shoe a dead horse, and

all the sound principles in Christendomwill never make a live speech out of adead one. So let it be understood thatpublic speaking is not a matter ofmastering a few dead rules; the mostimportant law of public speech is thenecessity for truth, force, feeling, andlife. Forget all else, but not this.

When you have mastered themechanics of speech outlined in the nextfew chapters you will no longer betroubled with monotony. The completeknowledge of these principles and theability to apply them will give you greatvariety in your powers of expression.But they cannot be mastered and applied

by thinking or reading about them—youmust practise, practise, PRACTISE. Ifno one else will listen to you, listen toyourself—you must always be your ownbest critic, and the severest one of all.

The technical principles that we laydown in the following chapters are notarbitrary creations of our own. They areall founded on the practices that goodspeakers and actors adopt—eithernaturally and unconsciously or underinstruction—in getting their effects.

It is useless to warn the student that hemust be natural. To be natural may be tobe monotonous. The little strawberry upin the arctics with a few tiny seeds andan acid tang is a natural berry, but it isnot to be compared with the improved

variety that we enjoy here. The dwarfedoak on the rocky hillside is natural, but apoor thing compared with the beautifultree found in the rich, moist bottomlands. Be natural—but improve yournatural gifts until you have approachedthe ideal, for we must strive afteridealized nature, in fruit, tree, andspeech.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES.

1. What are the causes of monotony?2. Cite some instances in nature.3. Cite instances in man's daily life.4. Describe some of the effects of

monotony in both cases.5. Read aloud some speech without

paying particular attention to its meaningor force.

6. Now repeat it after you havethoroughly assimilated its matter andspirit. What difference do you notice inits rendition?

7. Why is monotony one of the worstas well as one of the most common faultsof speakers?

3ChapterEFFICIENCYTHROUGHEMPHASIS ANDSUBORDINATION

In a word, the principle ofemphasis … is followed best, notby remembering particular rules,but by being full of a particular

feeling.—C.S. Baldwin, Writingand Speaking.

The gun that scatters too much doesnot bag the birds. The same principleapplies to speech. The speaker that fireshis force and emphasis at random into asentence will not get results. Not everyword is of special importance—therefore only certain words demandemphasis.

You say MassaCHUsetts andMinneAPolis, you do not emphasize eachsyllable alike, but hit the accentedsyllable with force and hurry over theunimportant ones. Now why do you notapply this principle in speaking asentence? To some extent you do, in

ordinary speech; but do you in publicdiscourse? It is there that monotonycaused by lack of emphasis is sopainfully apparent.

So far as emphasis is concerned, youmay consider the average sentence asjust one big word, with the importantword as the accented syllable. Note thefollowing:

"Destiny is not a matter of chance. Itis a matter of choice."

You might as well say MASS-A-CHU-SETTS, emphasizing every syllableequally, as to lay equal stress on eachword in the foregoing sentences.

Speak it aloud and see. Of course youwill want to emphasize destiny, for it isthe principal idea in your declaration,

and you will put some emphasis on not,else your hearers may think you areaffirming that destiny is a matter ofchance. By all means you mustemphasize chance, for it is one of thetwo big ideas in the statement.

Another reason why chance takesemphasis is that it is contrastedw i t h choice in the next sentence.Obviously, the author has contrastedthese ideas purposely, so that they mightbe more emphatic, and here we see thatcontrast is one of the very first devicesto gain emphasis.

As a public speaker you can assistthis emphasis of contrast with yourvoice. If you say, "My horse isn o t black," what color immediately

comes into mind? White, naturally, forthat is the opposite of black. If you wishto bring out the thought that destiny is amatter of choice, you can do so moreeffectively by first saying that"DESTINY is NOT a mattero f CHANCE." Is not the color of thehorse impressed upon us moreemphatically when you say, "My horsei s NOT BLACK. He is WHITE" than itwould be by hearing you assert merelythat your horse is white?

In the second sentence of the statementthere is only one important word—choice. It is the one word thatpositively defines the quality of thesubject being discussed, and the authorof those lines desired to bring it out

emphatically, as he has shown bycontrasting it with another idea. Theselines, then, would read like this:

"DESTINY is NOT a matterof CHANCE. It is a matter of CHOICE."Now read this over, striking the wordsin capitals with a great deal of force.

In almost every sentence there are af e w MOUNTAIN PEAK WORDS thatrepresent the big, important ideas. Whenyou pick up the evening paper you cantell at a glance which are the importantnews articles. Thanks to the editor, hedoes not tell about a "hold up" in HongKong in the same sized type as he uses toreport the death of five firemen in yourhome city. Size of type is his device toshow emphasis in bold relief. He brings

out sometimes even in red headlines thestriking news of the day.

It would be a boon to speech-makingif speakers would conserve the attentionof their audiences in the same way andemphasize only the words representingthe important ideas. The average speakerwill deliver the foregoing line on destinywith about the same amount of emphasison each word. Instead of saying, "It is amatter of CHOICE," he will deliver it,"It is a matter of choice," or "IT IS AMATTER OF CHOICE"—both equallybad.

Charles Dana, the famous editoro f The New York Sun , told one of hisreporters that if he went up the street andsaw a dog bite a man, to pay no attention

to it. The Sun could not afford to wastethe time and attention of its readers onsuch unimportant happenings. "But," saidMr. Dana, "if you see a man bite a dog,hurry back to the office and write thestory." Of course that is news; that isunusual.

Now the speaker who says "IT IS AMATTER OF CHOICE" is putting toomuch emphasis upon things that are of nomore importance to metropolitanreaders than a dog bite, and when hefails to emphasize "choice" he is like thereporter who "passes up" the man'sbiting a dog. The ideal speaker makeshis big words stand out like mountainpeaks; his unimportant words aresubmerged like stream-beds. His big

thoughts stand like huge oaks; his ideasof no especial value are merely like thegrass around the tree.

From all this we may deduce thisimportant principle: EMPHASIS is amatterof CONTRAST and COMPARISON.

Recently the New YorkAmerican featured an editorial by ArthurBrisbane. Note the following, printed inthe same type as given here.

We do not know what the PresidentTHOUGHT when he got thatmessage, or what the elephant thinkswhen he sees the mouse, but we doknow what the President DID.

Thewords THOUGHT and DID immediately

catch the reader's attention because theyare different from the others, notespecially because they are larger. If allthe rest of the words in this sentencewere made ten times as large as they are,a nd DID andTHOUGHT were kept attheir present size, they would still beemphatic, because different.

Take the following from RobertChambers' novel, "The Business ofLife." The words you, had, would, areall emphatic, because they have beenmade different.

He looked at her in angryastonishment."Well, what do you call it if it isn'tcowardice—to slink off and marry

a defenseless girl like that!""Did you expect me to give you achance to destroy me and poisonJacqueline's mind? If I had beenguilty of the thing with which youcharge me, what I havedone would have been cowardly.Otherwise, it is justified."

A Fifth Avenue bus would attractattention up at Minisink Ford, NewYork, while one of the ox teams thatfrequently pass there would attractattention on Fifth Avenue. To make aword emphatic, deliver it differentlyfrom the manner in which the wordssurrounding it are delivered. If you havebeen talking loudly, utter the emphatic

word in a concentrated whisper—andyou have intense emphasis. If you havebeen going fast, go very slow on theemphatic word. If you have been talkingon a low pitch, jump to a high one on theemphatic word. If you have been talkingon a high pitch, take a low one on youremphatic ideas. Read the chapters on"Inflection," "Feeling," "Pause,""Change of Pitch," "Change of Tempo."Each of these will explain in detail howto get emphasis through the use of acertain principle.

In this chapter, however, we areconsidering only one form of emphasis:that of applying force to the importantword and subordinating the unimportantwords. Do not forget: this is one of the

main methods that you must continuallyemploy in getting your effects.

Let us not confound loudness withemphasis. To yell is not a sign ofearnestness, intelligence, or feeling. Thekind of force that we want applied to theemphatic word is not entirely physical.True, the emphatic word may be spokenmore loudly, or it may be spoken moresoftly, but the real quality desired isintensity, earnestness. It must come fromwithin, outward.

Last night a speaker said: "The curseof this country is not a lack of education.It's politics." He emphasized curse,lack, education, politics. The otherwords were hurried over and thus givenno comparative importance at all. The

word politics was flamed out with greatfeeling as he slapped his hands togetherindignantly. His emphasis was bothcorrect and powerful. He concentratedall our attention on the words that meantsomething, instead of holding it up onsuch words as of this, a, of, It's.

What would you think of a guide whoagreed to show New York to a strangerand then took up his time by visitingChinese laundries and boot-blacking"parlors" on the side streets? There isonly one excuse for a speaker's askingthe attention of his audience: He musthave either truth or entertainment forthem. If he wearies their attention withtrifles they will have neither vivacity nordesire left when he reaches words of

Wall-Street and skyscraper importance.You do not dwell on these small wordsin your everyday conversation, becauseyou are not a conversational bore. Applythe correct method of everyday speech tothe platform. As we have notedelsewhere, public speaking is very muchlike conversation enlarged.

Sometimes, for big emphasis, it isadvisable to lay stress on every singlesyllable in a word, as absolutely in thefollowing sentence:

I ab-so-lute-ly refuse to grant yourdemand.

Now and then this principle should beapplied to an emphatic sentence bystressing each word. It is a good device

for exciting special attention, and itfurnishes a pleasing variety. PatrickHenry's notable climax could bedelivered in that manner veryeffectively: "Give—me—liberty—or—give—me—death." The italicized part ofthe following might also be deliveredwith this every-word emphasis. Ofcourse, there are many ways ofdelivering it; this is only one of severalgood interpretations that might bechosen.

Knowing the price we must pay, thesacrifice we must make, theburdens we must carry, the assaultswe must endure—knowing full wellthe cost—yet we enlist, and we

enlist for the war. For we know thejustice of our cause, and we know,too, its certain triumph.—From "Pass ProsperityAround," by Albert J.Beveridge, before the ChicagoNational Convention of theProgressive Party.

Strongly emphasizing a single wordhas a tendency to suggest its antithesis.Notice how the meaning changes bymerely putting the emphasis on differentwords in the following sentence. Theparenthetical expressions would reallynot be needed to supplement theemphatic words.

I intended to buy a house this

Spring (even if you did not).I INTENDED to buy a house thisSpring (but something prevented).I intended to BUY a house thisSpring (instead of renting asheretofore).I intended to buy a HOUSE thisSpring (and not an automobile).I intended to buy ahouse THIS Spring (instead of nextSpring).I intended to buy a housethis SPRING (instead of in theAutumn).

When a great battle is reported in thepapers, they do not keep emphasizing thesame facts over and over again. They try

to get new information, or a "new slant."The news that takes an important placein the morning edition will be relegatedto a small space in the late afternoonedition. We are interested in new ideasand new facts. This principle has a veryimportant bearing in determining youremphasis. Do not emphasize the sameidea over and over again unless youdesire to lay extra stress on it; SenatorThurston desired to put the maximumamount of emphasis on "force" in hisspeech on page 50. Note how force isemphasized repeatedly. As a generalrule, however, the new idea, the "newslant," whether in a newspaper report ofa battle or a speaker's enunciation of hisideas, is emphatic.

In the following selection, "larger" isemphatic, for it is the new idea. All menhave eyes, but this man asks fora LARGER eye.

This man with the larger eye says hewill discover, not rivers or safetyappliances for aeroplanes, but NEWSTARS and SUNS. "New stars and suns"are hardly as emphatic as the word"larger." Why? Because we expect anastronomer to discover heavenly bodiesrather than cooking recipes. The words,"Republic needs" in the next sentence,are emphatic; they introduce a new andimportant idea. Republics have alwaysneeded men, but the author says theyne e d NEW men. "New" is emphaticbecause it introduces a new idea. In like

manner, "soil," "grain," "tools," are alsoemphatic.

The most emphatic words areitalicized in this selection. Are there anyothers you would emphasize? Why?

The old astronomer said, "Give mea larger eye, and I willdiscover new stars and suns." Thatis what therepublic needs today—new men—men whoare wise toward the soil, towardthe grains, toward the tools. If Godwould only raise up for the peopletwo or three menlike Watt, Fulton and McCormick,they would beworth more tothe State than that treasure

box named California or Mexico.And the real supremacy of man isbased uponhis capacity for education. Manis unique in the length ofhis childhood, which meansthe periodof plasticity and education.The childhood of a moth, thedistance that stands between thehatching of the robinandits maturity, represent a fewhours or a few weeks, but twentyyears for growth standsbetween man'scradle and hiscitizenship. This protractedchildhood makes it possible to handover to the boy all theaccumulatedstores

achieved by races and civilizations through —Anonymous.

You must understand that there are nosteel-riveted rules of emphasis. It is notalways possible to designate whichword must, and which must not beemphasized. One speaker will put oneinterpretation on a speech, anotherspeaker will use different emphasis tobring out a different interpretation. Noone can say that one interpretation isright and the other wrong. This principlemust be borne in mind in all our markedexercises. Here your own intelligencemust guide—and greatly to your profit.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What is emphasis?2. Describe one method of destroying

monotony of thought-presentation.3. What relation does this have to the

use of the voice?4. Which words should be

emphasized, which subordinated, in asentence?

5. Read the selections on pages 50,51, 52, 53 and 54, devoting specialattention to emphasizing the importantwords or phrases and subordinating theunimportant ones. Read again, changingemphasis slightly. What is the effect?

6. Read some sentence repeatedly,emphasizing a different word each time,and show how the meaning is changed,

as is done on page 22.7. What is the effect of a lack of

emphasis?8. Read the selections on pages 30

and 48, emphasizing every word. Whatis the effect on the emphasis?

9. When is it permissible toemphasize every single word in asentence?

10. Note the emphasis andsubordination in some conversation orspeech you have heard. Were they wellmade? Why? Can you suggest anyimprovement?

11. From a newspaper or a magazine,clip a report of an address, or abiographical eulogy. Mark the passagefor emphasis and bring it with you to

class.12. In the following passage, would

you make any changes in the author'smarkings for emphasis? Where? Why?Bear in mind that not all words markedrequire the same degree of emphasis—in a wide variety of emphasis, and innice shading of the gradations, lie theexcellence of emphatic speech.

I would call him Napoleon, butNapoleon made his way to empireover broken oaths and througha sea ofblood. Thisman never broke his word. "NoRetaliation" was his great mottoand the rule of his life; and the lastwords uttered to his son in France

were these: "My boy, you will oneday go back to SantoDomingo; forget thatFrancemurdered your father." I wouldcall him Cromwell, but Cromwellwas only a soldier, and the state hefounded went down with him intohis grave. I would callhim Washington, but the greatVirginian held slaves. Thisman risked his empire ratherthan permit the slave-trade inthe humblest village of hisdominions.You think me a fanatic to-night, foryou read history, not withyour eyes, but withyour prejudices. But fifty years

hence, when Truth gets a hearing,the Muse of History willput Phocion for the Greek,and Brutus fortheRoman, Hampden for England, Lafayettechoose Washington as the bright,consummate flower ofour earlier civilization, and JohnBrown the ripe fruit ofour noonday, then, dipping her penin the sunlight, will write in theclear blue, above them all, thename of the soldier, the statesman,the martyr, TOUSSAINTL'OUVERTURE.

—Wendell Phillips, Toussaintl'Ouverture.

Practise on the following selectionsfor emphasis: Beecher's "AbrahamLincoln," page 76; Lincoln's "GettysburgSpeech," page 50; Seward's"Irrepressible Conflict," page 67; andBryan's "Prince of Peace," page 448.

4ChapterEFFICIENCYTHROUGHCHANGE OF PITCH

Speech is simply a modified formof singing: the principal differencebeing in the fact that in singing thevowel sounds are prolonged andthe intervals are short, whereas inspeech the words are uttered in

what may be called "staccato"tones, the vowels not beingspecially prolonged and theintervals between the words beingmore distinct. The fact that insinging we have a larger range oftones does not properly distinguishit from ordinary speech. In speechwe have likewise a variation oftones, and even in ordinaryconversation there is a differenceof from three to six semi-tones, as Ihave found in my investigations,and in some persons the range is ashigh as one octave.—WilliamScheppegrell, Popular ScienceMonthly.

By pitch, as everyone knows, wemean the relative position of a vocaltone—as, high, medium, low, or anyvariation between. In public speech weapply it not only to a single utterance, asan exclamation or a monosyllable(Oh! or the) but to any group ofsyllables, words, and even sentencesthat may be spoken in a single tone. Thisdistinction it is important to keep inmind, for the efficient speaker not onlychanges the pitch of successive syllables(see Chapter VII, "Efficiency throughInflection"), but gives a different pitch todifferent parts, or word-groups, ofsuccessive sentences. It is this phase ofthe subject which we are considering inthis chapter.

Every Change in the ThoughtDemands a Change in the Voice-Pitch

Whether the speaker follows the ruleconsciously, unconsciously, orsubconsciously, this is the logical basisupon which all good voice variation ismade, yet this law is violated more oftenthan any other by public speakers. Acriminal may disregard a law of the statewithout detection and punishment, butthe speaker who violates this regulationsuffers its penalty at once in his loss ofeffectiveness, while his innocent hearersmust endure the monotony—formonotony is not only a sin of theperpetrator, as we have shown, but aplague on the victims as well.

Change of pitch is a stumbling block

for almost all beginners, and for manyexperienced speakers also. This isespecially true when the words of thespeech have been memorized.

If you wish to hear how pitch-monotony sounds, strike the same noteon the piano over and over again. Youhave in your speaking voice a range ofpitch from high to low, with a greatmany shades between the extremes. Withall these notes available there is noexcuse for offending the ears and taste ofyour audience by continually using theone note. True, the reiteration of thesame tone in music—as in pedal pointon an organ composition—may be madethe foundation of beauty, for the harmonyweaving about that one basic tone

produces a consistent, insistent qualitynot felt in pure variety of chordsequences. In like manner the intoningvoice in a ritual may—though it rarelydoes—possess a solemn beauty. But thepublic speaker should shun the monotoneas he would a pestilence.

Continual Change of Pitch isNature's Highest Method

In our search for the principles ofefficiency we must continually go backto nature. Listen—really listen—to thebirds sing. Which of these featheredtribes are most pleasing in their vocalefforts: those whose voices, thoughsweet, have little or no range, or thosethat, like the canary, the lark, and thenightingale, not only possess a

considerable range but utter their notesin continual variety of combinations?Even a sweet-toned chirp, whenreiterated without change, may growmaddening to the enforced listener.

The little child seldom speaks in amonotonous pitch. Observe theconversations of little folk that you hearon the street or in the home, and note thecontinual changes of pitch. Theunconscious speech of most adults islikewise full of pleasing variations.

Imagine someone speaking thefollowing, and consider if the effectwould not be just about as indicated.Remember, we are not now discussingthe inflection of single words, but thegeneral pitch in which phrases are

spoken.(High pitch) "I'd like to leave for my

vacation tomorrow,—(lower) still, Ihave so much to do. (Higher) Yet Isuppose if I wait until I have time I'llnever go."

Repeat this, first in the pitchesindicated, and then all in the one pitch,as many speakers would. Observe thedifference in naturalness of effect.

The following exercise should bespoken in a purely conversational tone,with numerous changes of pitch. Practiseit until your delivery would cause astranger in the next room to think youwere discussing an actual incident witha friend, instead of delivering amemorized monologue. If you are in

doubt about the effect you have secured,repeat it to a friend and ask him if itsounds like memorized words. If it does,it is wrong.

A SIMILAR CASEJack, I hear you've gone and doneit.—Yes, I know; most fellowswill; went and tried it once myself,sir, though you see I'm single still.And you met her—did you tell me—down at Newport, last July, andresolved to ask the question ata soirée? So did I.I suppose you left the ball-room,with its music and its light; for theysay love's flame is brightest in thedarkness of the night. Well, you

walked along together, overheadthe starlit sky; and I'll bet—oldman, confess it—you werefrightened. So was I.So you strolled along the terrace,saw the summer moonlight pour allits radiance on the waters, as theyrippled on the shore, till at lengthyou gathered courage, when yousaw that none was nigh—did youdraw her close and tell her that youloved her? So did I.Well, I needn't ask you further, andI'm sure I wish you joy. Think I'llwander down and see you whenyou're married—eh, my boy? Whenthe honeymoon is over and you'resettled down, we'll try—What? the

deuce you say! Rejected—yourejected? So was I.—Anonymous.

The necessity for changing pitch is soself-evident that it should be graspedand applied immediately. However, itrequires patient drill to free yourselffrom monotony of pitch.

In natural conversation you think of anidea first, and then find words to expressit. In memorized speeches you are liableto speak the words, and then think whatthey mean—and many speakers seem totrouble very little even about that. Is itany wonder that reversing the processshould reverse the result? Get back tonature in your methods of expression.

Read the following selection in a

nonchalant manner, never pausing tothink what the words really mean. Try itagain, carefully studying the thought youhave assimilated. Believe the idea,desire to express it effectively, andimagine an audience before you. Lookthem earnestly in the face and repeat thistruth. If you follow directions, you willnote that you have made many changes ofpitch after several readings.

It is not work that kills men; it isworry. Work is healthy; you can hardlyput more upon a man than he can bear.Worry is rust upon the blade. It is not therevolution that destroys the machinerybut the friction.—Henry Ward Beecher.

Change of Pitch Produces EmphasisThis is a highly important statement.

Variety in pitch maintains the hearer'sinterest, but one of the surest ways tocompel attention—to secure unusualemphasis—is to change the pitch of yourvoice suddenly and in a marked degree.A great contrast always arousesattention. White shows whiter againstblack; a cannon roars louder in theSahara silence than in the Chicago hurlyburly—these are simple illustrations ofthe power of contrast."What is Congress going to do next?

—————————————————

(High pitch) |

| I do not know."

—————————————————

(Low pitch)By such sudden change of pitch during

a sermon Dr. Newell Dwight Hillisrecently achieved great emphasis andsuggested the gravity of the question hehad raised.

The foregoing order of pitch-changemight be reversed with equally goodeffect, though with a slight change inseriousness—either method producesemphasis when used intelligently, that is,with a common-sense appreciation of thesort of emphasis to be attained.

In attempting these contrasts of pitch itis important to avoid unpleasantextremes. Most speakers pitch theirvoices too high. One of the secrets ofMr. Bryan's eloquence is his low, bell-

like voice. Shakespeare said that a soft,gentle, low voice was "an excellentthing in woman;" it is no less so in man,for a voice need not be blatant to bepowerful,—and must not be, to bepleasing.

In closing, let us emphasize anew theimportance of using variety of pitch. Yousing up and down the scale, firsttouching one note and then another aboveor below it. Do likewise in speaking.

Thought and individual taste mustgenerally be your guide as to where touse a low, a moderate, or a high pitch.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Name two methods of destroying

monotony and gaining force in speaking.2. Why is a continual change of pitch

necessary in speaking?3. Notice your habitual tones in

speaking. Are they too high to bepleasant?

4. Do we express the followingthoughts and emotions in a low or a highpitch? Which may be expressed in eitherhigh or low pitch? Excitement. Victory.Defeat. Sorrow. Love. Earnestness.Fear.

5. How would you naturally vary thepitch in introducing an explanatory orparenthetical expression like thefollowing:

He started—that is, he made

preparations to start—onSeptember third.

6. Speak the following lines with asmarked variations in pitch as yourinterpretation of the sense may dictate.Try each line in two different ways.Which, in each instance, is the moreeffective—and why?

What have I to gain from you?Nothing.To engage our nation in such acompact would be an infamy.Note: In the foregoing sentence,experiment as to where the changein pitch would better be made.Once the flowers distilled theirfragrance here, but now see the

devastations of war.He had reckoned without one primefactor—his conscience.

7. Make a diagram of a conversationyou have heard, showing where high andlow pitches were used. Were thesechanges in pitch advisable? Why or whynot?

8. Read the selections on pages 34,35, 36, 37 and 38, paying carefulattention to the changes in pitch. Reread,substituting low pitch for high, and viceversa.

Selections for PractiseNote: In the following selections,

those passages that may best bedelivered in a moderate pitch are printed

in ordinary (roman) type. Those whichmay be rendered in a high pitch—do notmake the mistake of raising the voice toohigh—are printed in italics. Thosewhich might well be spoken in a lowpitch are printed in CAPITALS.

These arrangements, however, aremerely suggestive—we cannot make itstrong enough that you must use yourown judgment in interpreting a selection.Before doing so, however, it is well topractise these passages as they aremarked.

Yes, all men labor. RUFUSCHOATE AND DANIELWEBSTER labor, say the critics.But every man who reads of the

labor question knows that it meansthe movement of the men that earntheir living with their hands;THATARE EMPLOYED, AND PAIDWAGES: are gathered under roofsof factories, sent out on farms,sent out on ships, gathered on thewalls. In popular acceptation, theworking class means the men thatwork with their hands, for wages,so many hours a day, employed bygreat capitalists; that work foreverybody else. Why do we movefor this class? "Why," asks a critic,"don't you move FOR ALLWORKINGMEN?" BECAUSE,WHILE DANIEL WEBSTER GETSFORTY THOUSAND DOLLARS

FOR ARGUING THE MEXICANCLAIMS, there is no need ofanybody's moving for him.BECAUSE, WHILE RUFUSCHOATE GETS FIVE THOUSANDDOLLARS FOR MAKING ONEARGUMENT TO A JURY, there isno need of moving for him, or forthe men that work with theirbrains,—that do highly disciplinedand skilled labor, invent, and writebooks. The reason why the Labormovement confines itself to a singleclass is because that class ofwork DOES NOT GET PAID, doesnot get protection. MENTALLABOR is adequately paid,and MORE THAN ADEQUATELY

protected. IT CAN SHIFT ITSCHANNELS; it can vary accordingto the supply and demand.IF A MAN FAILS AS A MINISTER,why, he becomes a railwayconductor. IF THAT DOESN'TSUIT HIM, he goes West, andbecomes governor of a territory.AND IF HE FINDS HIMSELFINCAPABLE OF EITHER OFTHESE POSITIONS, he comeshome, and gets to be a city editor.He varies his occupation as hepleases, and doesn't needprotection. BUT THE GREATMASS, CHAINED TO A TRADE,DOOMED TO BE GROUND UPIN THE MILL OF SUPPLY AND

DEMAND, THAT WORK SO MANYHOURS A DAY, AND MUST RUNIN THE GREAT RUTS OFBUSINESS,—they are the menwhose inadequate protection,whose unfair share of the generalproduct, claims a movement intheir behalf.

—Wendell Phillips.

KNOWING THE PRICE WE MUSTPAY, THE SACRIFICE WE MUSTMAKE, THE BURDENS WE MUSTCARRY, THE ASSAULTS WEMUST ENDURE—KNOWINGFULL WELL THE COST—yet weenlist, and we enlist for thewar. FOR WE KNOW THE

JUSTICE OF OUR CAUSE, andwe know, too, its certain triumph.NOT RELUCTANTLY THEN, buteagerly, not with faint hearts BUTSTRONG, do we now advanceupon the enemies of the people.FOR THE CALL THAT COMESTO US is the call that came to ourfathers. As they responded so shallwe."HE HATH SOUNDED FORTH ATRUMPET that shall never callretreat. HE IS SIFTING OUT THEHEARTS OF MEN before Hisjudgment seat. OH, BE SWIFTOUR SOULS TO ANSWER HIM,BE JUBILANT OUR FEET, OurGod is marching on."

—Albert J. Beveridge.

Remember that two sentences, or twoparts of the same sentence, whichcontain changes of thought, cannotpossibly be given effectively in the samekey. Let us repeat, every big change ofthought requires a big change of pitch.What the beginning student will think arebig changes of pitch will bemonotonously alike. Learn to speaksome thoughts in a very high tone—others in a very, verylowtone. DEVELOP RANGE. It is almostimpossible to use too much of it.

HAPPY AM I THAT THISMISSION HAS BROUGHT MYFEET AT LAST TO PRESS NEW

ENGLAND'S HISTORIC SOIL andmy eyes to the knowledge of herbeauty and her thrift. Here withintouch of Plymouth Rock and BunkerHill—WHERE WEBSTERTHUNDERED and Longfellowsang, Emerson thought ANDCHANNING PREACHED—HEREIN THE CRADLE OF AMERICANLETTERS and almost of Americanliberty, I hasten to make theobeisance that every Americanowes New England when first hestands uncovered in her mightypresence. Strange apparition! Thisstern and unique figure—carvedfrom the ocean and the wilderness—its majesty kindling and growing

amid the storms of winter and ofwars—until at last the gloom wasbroken, ITS BEAUTY DISCLOSEDIN THE SUNSHINE, and theheroic workers rested at itsbase—while startled kings andemperors gazed and marveled thatfrom the rude touch of this handfulcast on a bleak and unknown shoreshould have come the embodiedgenius of human government ANDTHE PERFECTED MODEL OFHUMAN LIBERTY! God bless thememory of those immortal workers,and prosper the fortunes of theirliving sons—and perpetuate theinspiration of their handiwork… .Far to the South, Mr. President,

separated from this section by aline—once defined inirrepressible difference, oncetraced in fratricidal blood, ANDNOW, THANK GOD, BUT AVANISHING SHADOW—lies thefairest and richest domain of thisearth. It is the home of a braveand hospitable people. THERE ISCENTERED ALL THAT CANPLEASE OR PROSPERHUMANKIND. A PERFECTCLIMATE ABOVE a fertilesoil yields to the husbandman everyproduct of the temperate zone.There, by night the cotton whitensbeneath the stars, and by day THEWHEAT LOCKS THE SUNSHINE

IN ITS BEARDED SHEAF. In thesame field the clover steals thefragrance of the wind, and tobaccocatches the quick aroma of therains. THERE ARE MOUNTAINSSTORED WITH EXHAUSTLESSTREASURES: forests—vast andprimeval; and rivers that, tumblingor loitering, run wanton to thesea. Of the three essential items ofall industries—cotton, iron andwood—that region has easycontrol. IN COTTON, a fixedmonopoly—IN IRON, provensupremacy—IN TIMBER, thereserve supply of theRepublic. From this assured andpermanent advantage, against which

artificial conditions cannot muchlonger prevail, has grown anamazing system of industries. Notmaintained by human contrivance oftariff or capital, afar off from thefullest and cheapest source ofsupply, but resting in divineassurance, within touch of field andmine and forest—not set amidcostly farms from whichcompetition has driven the farmerin despair, but amid cheap andsunny lands, rich with agriculture,to which neither season nor soil hasset a limit—this system ofindustries is mounting to a splendorthat shall dazzle and illumine theworld. THAT, SIR, is the picture

and the promise of my home—ALAND BETTER AND FAIRERTHAN I HAVE TOLD YOU, and yetbut fit setting in its materialexcellence for the loyal and gentlequality of its citizenship.This hour little needs the LOYALTYTHAT IS LOYAL TO ONESECTION and yet holds the otherin enduring suspicion andestrangement. Give usthe broad and perfect loyalty thatloves and trusts GEORGIA alikewith Massachusetts—that knowsno SOUTH, no North, no EAST,no West, but endears with equaland patriotic love every foot of oursoil, every State of our Union.

A MIGHTY DUTY, SIR, AND AMIGHTY INSPIRATION impelsevery one of us to-night to lose inpatriotic consecrationWHATEVER ESTRANGES,WHATEVER DIVIDES.WE, SIR, are Americans—AND WESTAND FOR HUMANLIBERTY! The uplifting force of theAmerican idea is under everythrone on earth. France, Brazil—THESE ARE OUR VICTORIES. Toredeem the earth from kingcraftand oppression—THIS IS OURMISSION! AND WE SHALL NOTFAIL. God has sown in our soil theseed of His millennial harvest, andHe will not lay the sickle to the

ripening crop until His full andperfect day has come. OURHISTORY, SIR, has been aconstant and expanding miracle,FROM PLYMOUTH ROCK ANDJAMESTOWN, all the way—aye,even from the hour when from thevoiceless and traceless ocean anew world rose to the sight of theinspired sailor. As we approach thefourth centennial of that stupendousday—when the old world willcome to marvel and to learn amidour gathered treasures—let usresolve to crown the miracles ofour past with the spectacle of aRepublic, compact, unitedINDISSOLUBLE IN THE BONDS

OF LOVE—loving from the Lakesto the Gulf—the wounds of warhealed in every heart as on everyhill, serene and resplendent ATTHE SUMMIT OF HUMANACHIEVEMENT AND EARTHLYGLORY, blazing out the path andmaking clear the way up which allthe nations of the earth, mustcome in God's appointed time!

—Henry W. Grady, The RaceProblem.

… I WOULD CALL HIMNAPOLEON, but Napoleon madehis way to empire over brokenoaths and through a sea ofblood. This man never broke his

word. "No Retaliation" was hisgreat motto and the rule of hislife; AND THE LAST WORDSUTTERED TO HIS SON INFRANCE WERE THESE: "My boy,you will one day go back to SantoDomingo; forget that Francemurdered your father." I WOULDCALL HIM CROMWELL, butCromwell was only a soldier, andthe state he founded went downwith him into his grave. I WOULDCALL HIM WASHINGTON, but thegreat Virginian held slaves. THISMAN RISKED HIS EMPIRE ratherthan permit the slave-trade in thehumblest village of his dominions.YOU THINK ME A FANATIC TO-

NIGHT, for you read history, notwith your eyes, BUT WITH YOURPREJUDICES. But fifty yearshence, when Truth gets a hearing,the Muse of History willput PHOCION for theGreek, and BRUTUS for theRoman, HAMPDEN for England,LAFAYETTE forFrance, chooseWASHINGTON asthe bright, consummate flower ofour EARLIER civilization, ANDJOHN BROWN the ripe fruit ofour NOONDAY, then, dipping herpen in the sunlight, will write in theclear blue, above them all, thename of THE SOLDIER, THESTATESMAN, THE MARTYR,

TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.—Wendell Phillips, Toussaint

l'Ouverture.

Drill on the following selections forchange of pitch: Beecher's "AbrahamLincoln," p. 76; Seward's "IrrepressibleConflict," p. 67; Everett's "History ofLiberty," p. 78; Grady's "The RaceProblem," p. 36; and Beveridge's "PassProsperity Around," p. 470.

5ChapterEFFICIENCYTHROUGHCHANGE OF PACE

Hear how he clears the points o'FaithWi' rattlin' an' thumpin'!Now meekly calm, now wild inwrath,He's stampin' an' he's jumpin'.

—Robert Burns, Holy Fair.

The Latins have bequeathed to us aword that has no precise equivalent inour tongue, therefore we have acceptedit, body unchanged—it is thew o r d tempo, and means rate ofmovement, as measured by the timeconsumed in executing that movement.

Thus far its use has been largelylimited to the vocal and musical arts, butit would not be surprising to hear tempoapplied to more concrete matters, for itperfectly illustrates the real meaning ofthe word to say that an ox-cart moves inslow tempo, an express train in a fasttempo. Our guns that fire six hundredtimes a minute, shoot at a fast tempo; the

old muzzle loader that required threeminutes to load, shot at a slow tempo.Every musician understands thisprinciple: it requires longer to sing ahalf note than it does an eighth note.

Now tempo is a tremendouslyimportant element in good platformwork, for when a speaker delivers awhole address at very nearly the samerate of speed he is depriving himself ofone of his chief means of emphasis andpower. The baseball pitcher, the bowlerin cricket, the tennis server, all know thevalue of change of pace—change oftempo—in delivering their ball, and somust the public speaker observe itspower.

Change of Tempo Lends Naturalness

to the DeliveryNaturalness, or at least seeming

naturalness, as was explained in thechapter on "Monotony," is greatly to bedesired, and a continual change of tempowill go a long way towards establishingit. Mr. Howard Lindsay, Stage Managerfor Miss Margaret Anglin, recently saidto the present writer that change of pacewas one of the most effective tools of theactor. While it must be admitted that thestilted mouthings of many actors indicatecloudy mirrors, still the public speakerwould do well to study the actor's use oftempo.

There is, however, a morefundamental and effective source atwhich to study naturalness—a trait

which, once lost, is shy of recapture: thatsource is the common conversation ofany well-bred circle. This is thestandard we strive to reach on both stageand platform—with certain differences,of course, which will appear as we goon. If speaker and actor were toreproduce with absolute fidelity everyvariation of utterance—every whisper,grunt, pause, silence, and explosion—ofconversation as we find it typically ineveryday life, much of the interest wouldleave the public utterance. Naturalnessin public address is something more thanfaithful reproduction of nature—it is thereproduction of those typical parts ofnature's work which are trulyrepresentative of the whole.

The realistic story-writer understandsthis in writing dialogue, and we musttake it into account in seeking fornaturalness through change of tempo.

Suppose you speak the first of thefollowing sentences in a slow tempo, thesecond quickly, observing how natural isthe effect. Then speak both with the samerapidity and note the difference.

I can't recall what I did with my knife.Oh, now I remember I gave it to Mary.

We see here that a change of tempooften occurs in the same sentence—fortempo applies not only to single words,groups of words, and groups ofsentences, but to the major parts of apublic speech as well.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES 1. In the following, speak the words

"long, long while" very slowly; the restof the sentence is spoken in moderatelyrapid tempo.

When you and I behind the Veil arepast,Oh but the long, long while theworld shall last,Which of our coming and departureheeds,As the seven seas should heed apebble cast.

Note: In the following selections thepassages that should be given a fast

tempo are in italics; those that should begiven in a slow tempo are in smallcapitals. Practise these selections, andthen try others, changing from fast toslow tempo on different parts, carefullynoting the effect.

2. No MIRABEAU, NAPOLEON,BURNS, CROMWELL,NO man ADEQUATE to DOANYTHING but is first of allin RIGHT EARNEST about it—what I call A SINCERE man. Ishould say SINCERITY, aGREAT,DEEP, GENUINE SINCERITY, isthe first CHARACTERISTIC of aman in any way HEROIC.Not thesincerity that CALLS itself

sincere. Ah no. That is a very poormatter indeed—A SHALLOW,BRAGGART,CONSCIOUS sincerity,oftenest SELF-CONCEIT mainly.The GREAT MAN'SSINCERITY is of a kindhe CANNOT SPEAK OF. Is NOTCONSCIOUS of.—THOMASCARLYLE.3. TRUE WORTH is in BEING—NOT SEEMING—in doing eachday that goes by SOME LITTLEGOOD, notin DREAMING of GREATTHINGS to do by and by. Forwhatever men say intheirBLINDNESS, and in spite of

the FOLLIES of YOUTH, there isnothingso KINGLY as KINDNESS, andnothing so ROYAL as TRUTH.—Anonymous.

4. To get a natural effect, wherewould you use slow and where fasttempo in the following?

FOOL'S GOLD

See him there, cold and gray,Watch him as he tries to play;No, he doesn't know the way—He began to learn too late.She's a grim old hag, is Fate,

For she let him have his pile,Smiling to herself the while,Knowing what the cost would be,When he'd found the Golden Key.Multimillionaire is he,Many times more rich than we;But at that I wouldn't tradeWith the bargain that he made.Came here many years ago,Not a person did he know;Had the money-hunger bad—Mad for money, piggish mad;Didn't let a joy divert him,Didn't let a sorrow hurt him,Let his friends and kin desert him,While he planned and plugged andhurried

On his quest for gold and power.Every single wakeful hourWith a money thought he'd dower;All the while as he grew older,And grew bolder, he grew colder.And he thought that some dayHe would take the time to play;But, say—he was wrong.Life's a song;In the springYouth can sing and can fling;But joys wingWhen we're older,Like birds when it's colder.The roses were red as he wentrushing by,And glorious tapestries hung in thesky,

And the clover was waving'Neath honey-bees' slaving;A bird over thereRoundelayed a soft air;But the man couldn't spareTime for gathering flowers,Or resting in bowers,Or gazing at skiesThat gladdened the eyes.So he kept on and swept onThrough mean, sordid years.Now he's up to his earsIn the choicest of stocks.He owns endless blocksOf houses and shops,And the stream never stopsPouring into his banks.I suppose that he ranks

Pretty near to the top.What I have wouldn't sopHis ambition one tittle;And yet with my littleI don't care to trade With the bargain he made.Just watch him to-day—See him trying to play.He's come back for blue skies.But they're in a new guise—Winter's here, all is gray,The birds are away,The meadows are brown,The leaves lie aground,And the gay brook that woundWith a swirling and whirlingOf waters, is furling

Its bosom in ice.And he hasn't the price,With all of his gold,To buy what he sold.He knows now the costOf the spring-time he lost,Of the flowers he tossedFrom his way,And, say,He'd payAny price if the dayCould be made not so gray.He can't play.

—Herbert Kaufman. Used bypermission of Everybody's

Magazine.

Change of Tempo Prevents

MonotonyThe canary in the cage before the

window is adding to the beauty andcharm of his singing by a continualchange of tempo. If King Solomon hadbeen an orator he undoubtedly wouldhave gathered wisdom from the song ofthe wild birds as well as from the bees.Imagine a song written with but quarternotes. Imagine an auto with only onespeed.

EXERCISES

1. Note the change of tempo indicated

in the following, and how it gives apleasing variety. Read it aloud. (Fasttempo is indicated by italics, slow by

small capitals.)

And he thought that some day hewould take the time to play; but,say—HE WAS WRONG. LIFE'S ASONG; in the SPRINGYOUTH can SING andcan FLING; BUT JOYS WINGWHEN WE'RE OLDER, LIKETHE BIRDS whenit's COLDER. The roses were redas he went rushing by, andglorious tapestries hung in thesky.

2. Turn to "Fools Gold," on Page42, and deliver it in an unvaried tempo:note how monotonous is the result. Thispoem requires a great many changes of

tempo, and is an excellent one forpractise.

3. Use the changes of tempo indicatedin the following, noting how they preventmonotony. Where no change of tempo isindicated, use a moderate speed. Toomuch of variety would really be a returnto monotony.

THE MOB

"A MOB KILLS THE WRONGMAN" was flashed in a newspaperheadline lately. The mob isanIRRESPONSIBLE,UNTHINKING MASS. It alwaysdestroys BUT NEVERCONSTRUCTS. It criticisesBUTNEVER CREATES.

Utter a great truth AND THEMOB WILL HATE YOU. See howitcondemned DANTE to EXILE.Encounterthe dangers of the unknown worldfor its benefit, AND THE MOBWILL DECLARE YOU CRAZY. Itridiculed COLUMBUS, and fordiscovering a new world GAVEHIM PRISON AND CHAINS.Write a poem to thrill humanhearts with pleasure, AND THEMOB WILL ALLOW YOU TO GOHUNGRY: THE BLIND HOMERBEGGED BREAD THROUGHTHE STREETS. Invent a machineto save labor AND THE MOBWILL DECLARE YOU ITS

ENEMY. Less than a hundredyears ago a furious rabblesmashed Thimonier's invention,the sewing machine.BUILD A STEAMSHIP TOCARRY MERCHANDISE ANDACCELERATE TRAVEL and themob will call you a fool. A MOBLINED THE SHORES OF THEHUDSON RIVER TO LAUGH ATTHE MAIDEN ATTEMPT OF"FULTON'S FOLLY," as theycalled his little steamboat.Emerson says: "A mob is a societyof bodies voluntarily bereavingthemselves of reason and traversingits work. The mob is manvoluntarily descended to the nature

of the beast. Its fit hour ofactivity is NIGHT. ITS ACTIONSARE INSANE, like its wholeconstitution. It persecutes aprinciple—IT WOULD WHIP ARIGHT. It would tar and featherjustice by inflicting fire and outrageupon the house and persons of thosewho have these."The mob spirit stalks abroad in ourland today. Every week gives afresh victim to its malignant cry forblood. There were 48 personskilled by mobs in the United Statesin 1913; 64 in 1912, and 71 in1911. Among the 48 last year werea woman and a child. Two victimswere proven innocent after their

death.IN 399 B.C. A DEMAGOGAPPEALED TO THE POPULARMOB TO HAVE SOCRATES PUTTO DEATH and he was sentencedto the hemlock cup. FOURTEENHUNDRED YEARSAFTERWARD AN ENTHUSIASTAPPEALED TO THE POPULARMOB and all Europe plunged intothe Holy Land to kill and manglethe heathen. In the seventeenthcentury a demagog appealed tothe ignorance of men ANDTWENTY PEOPLE WEREEXECUTED AT SALEM, MASS.,WITHIN SIX MONTHS FORWITCHCRAFT. Two thousand

years ago the mob yelled,"RELEASE UNTO USBARABBAS"—AND BARABBASWAS A MURDERER!—From an Editorial by D.C. in"Leslie's Weekly," by permission.Present-day business is as unlikeOLD-TIME BUSINESS as theOLD-TIME OX-CART is unlikethepresent-daylocomotive. INVENTION has madethe whole world over again. Therailroad, telegraph,telephone have bound the people ofMODERN NATIONS intoFAMILIES. To do the business ofthese closely knit millions in everymodern country GREAT

BUSINESS CONCERNS CAMEINTO BEING.What we call bigbusiness is the CHILD OF THEECONOMIC PROGRESS OFMANKIND. So warfare to destroybig business is FOOLISHBECAUSE IT CAN NOTSUCCEED and wicked BECAUSEIT OUGHT NOT TOSUCCEED. Warfare to destroy bigbusiness does not hurt bigbusiness, which always comes outon top, SO MUCH AS IT HURTSALL OTHER BUSINESS WHICH,IN SUCH A WARFARE, NEVERCOME OUT ON TOP.—A.J.Beveridge.

Change of Tempo Produces

EmphasisAny big change of tempo is emphatic

and will catch the attention. You mayscarcely be conscious that a passengertrain is moving when it is flying over therails at ninety miles an hour, but if itslows down very suddenly to a ten-milegait your attention will be drawn to itvery decidedly. You may forget that youare listening to music as you dine, but letthe orchestra either increase or diminishits tempo in a very marked degree andyour attention will be arrested at once.

This same principle will procureemphasis in a speech. If you have a pointthat you want to bring home to your

audience forcefully, make a sudden andgreat change of tempo, and they will bepowerless to keep from paying attentionto that point. Recently the present writersaw a play in which these lines werespoken:

"I don't want you to forget what I said.I want you to remember it the longestday you—I don't care if you've got sixguns." The part up to the dash wasdelivered in a very slow tempo, theremainder was named out at lightningspeed, as the character who was spokento drew a revolver. The effect was soemphatic that the lines are rememberedsix months afterwards, while most of theplay has faded from memory. Thestudent who has powers of observation

will see this principle applied by all ourbest actors in their efforts to getemphasis where emphasis is due. Butremember that the emotion in the mattermust warrant the intensity in the manner,or the effect will be ridiculous. Toomany public speakers are impressiveover nothing.

Thought rather than rules must governyou while practising change of pace. It isoften a matter of no consequence whichpart of a sentence is spoken slowly andwhich is given in fast tempo. The mainthing to be desired is the change itself.For example, in the selection, "TheMob," on page 46, note the lastparagraph. Reverse the instructionsgiven, delivering everything that is

marked for slow tempo, quickly; andeverything that is marked for quicktempo, slowly. You will note that theforce or meaning of the passage has notbeen destroyed.

However, many passages cannot bechanged to a slow tempo withoutdestroying their force. Instances: ThePatrick Henry speech on page 110, andthe following passage from Whittier's"Barefoot Boy."

O for boyhood's time of June,crowding years in one brief moon,when all things I heard or saw, me,their master, waited for. I was richin flowers and trees, humming-birds and honey-bees; for my sport

the squirrel played; plied thesnouted mole his spade; for mytaste the blackberry cone purpledover hedge and stone; laughed thebrook for my delight through theday and through the night,whispering at the garden wall,talked with me from fall to fall;mine the sand-rimmed pickerelpond; mine the walnut slopesbeyond; mine, an bending orchardtrees, apples of Hesperides! Still,as my horizon grew, larger grewmy riches, too; all the world I sawor knew seemed a complex Chinesetoy, fashioned for a barefoot boy!—J.G. Whittier.

Be careful in regulating your temponot to get your movement too fast. Thisis a common fault with amateurspeakers. Mrs. Siddons rule was, "Taketime." A hundred years ago there wasused in medical circles a preparationknown as "the shot gun remedy;" it was amixture of about fifty differentingredients, and was given to the patientin the hope that at least one of themwould prove efficacious! That seems arather poor scheme for medical practice,but it is good to use "shot gun" tempo formost speeches, as it gives a variety.Tempo, like diet, is best when mixed.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Define tempo.2. What words come from the same

root?3. What is meant by a change of

tempo?4. What effects are gained by it?5. Name three methods of destroying

monotony and gaining force in speaking.6. Note the changes of tempo in a

conversation or speech that you hear.Were they well made? Why? Illustrate.

7. Read selections on pages 34, 35,36, 37 and 38, paying careful attention tochange of tempo.

8. As a rule, excitement, joy, orintense anger take a fast tempo, whilesorrow, and sentiments of great dignityor solemnity tend to a slow tempo. Try

to deliver Lincoln's Gettysburg speech(page 50), in a fast tempo, or PatrickHenry's speech (page 110), in a slowtempo, and note how ridiculous theeffect will be.

Practise the following selections,noting carefully where the tempo may bechanged to advantage. Experiment,making numerous changes. Which one doyou like best?

DEDICATION OF GETTYSBURGCEMETERYFourscore and seven years ago, ourfathers brought forth upon thiscontinent a new nation, conceivedin liberty and dedicated to theproposition that all men are created

equal. Now we are engaged in agreat civil war, testing whether thatnation—or any nation so conceivedand so dedicated—can long endure.We are met on a great battlefield ofthat war. We are met to dedicate aportion of it as the final resting-place of those who have given theirlives that that nation might live. It isaltogether fitting and proper that weshould do this.But, in a larger sense, we cannotdedicate, we cannot consecrate, wecannot hallow, this ground. Thebrave men, living and dead, whostruggled here, have consecrated it,far above our power to add or todetract. The world will very little

note nor long remember what wesay here; but it can never forgetwhat they did here.It is for us, the living, rather, to bededicated here to the unfinishedwork they have thus far so noblycarried on. It is rather for us to behere dedicated to the great taskremaining before us: that from thesehonored dead we take increaseddevotion to that cause for whichthey here gave the last full measureof devotion; that we here highlyresolve that these dead shall nothave died in vain; that the nationshall, under God, have a new birthof freedom, and that government ofthe people, by the people, for the

people, shall not perish from theearth.—Abraham Lincoln.

A PLEA FOR CUBA[This deliberative oration was delivered bySenator Thurston in the United States Senate onMarch 24, 1898. It is recorded in full inthe Congressional Record of that date. Mrs.Thurston died in Cuba. As a dying request sheurged her husband, who was investigatingaffairs in the island, to do his utmost to inducethe United States to intervene—hence thisoration.]Mr. President, I am here bycommand of silent lips to speakonce and for all upon the Cubansituation. I shall endeavor to behonest, conservative, and just. Ihave no purpose to stir the public

passion to any action not necessaryand imperative to meet the dutiesand necessities of Americanresponsibility, Christian humanity,and national honor. I would shirkthis task if I could, but I dare not. Icannot satisfy my conscience exceptby speaking, and speaking now.I went to Cuba firmly believing thatthe condition of affairs there hadbeen greatly exaggerated by thepress, and my own efforts weredirected in the first instance to theattempted exposure of thesesupposed exaggerations. There hasundoubtedly been muchsensationalism in the journalism ofthe time, but as to the condition of

affairs in Cuba, there has been noexaggeration, because exaggerationhas been impossible.Under the inhuman policy ofWeyler not less than four hundredthousand self-supporting, simple,peaceable, defenseless countrypeople were driven from theirhomes in the agricultural portionsof the Spanish provinces to thecities, and imprisoned upon thebarren waste outside the residenceportions of these cities and withinthe lines of intrenchmentestablished a little way beyond.Their humble homes were burned,their fields laid waste, theirimplements of husbandry destroyed,

their live stock and food suppliesfor the most part confiscated. Mostof the people were old men,women, and children. They werethus placed in hopelessimprisonment, without shelter orfood. There was no work for themin the cities to which they weredriven. They were left with nothingto depend upon except the scantycharity of the inhabitants of thecities and with slow starvationtheir inevitable fate… .The pictures in the Americannewspapers of the starvingreconcentrados are true. They canall be duplicated by the thousands. Inever before saw, and please God I

may never again see, so deplorablea sight as the reconcentrados in thesuburbs of Matanzas. I can neverforget to my dying day the hopelessanguish in their despairing eyes.Huddled about their little bark huts,they raised no voice of appeal to usfor alms as we went among them….Men, women, and children standsilent, famishing with hunger. Theironly appeal comes from their sadeyes, through which one looks asthrough an open window into theiragonizing souls.The government of Spain has notappropriated and will notappropriate one dollar to save

these people. They are now beingattended and nursed andadministered to by the charity of theUnited States. Think of thespectacle! We are feeding thesecitizens of Spain; we are nursingtheir sick; we are saving such ascan be saved, and yet there arethose who still say it is right for usto send food, but we must keephands off. I say that the time hascome when muskets ought to gowith the food.We asked the governor if he knewof any relief for these peopleexcept through the charity of theUnited States. He did not. Weasked him, "When do you think the

time will come that these peoplecan be placed in a position of self-support?" He replied to us, withdeep feeling, "Only the good Godor the great government of theUnited States will answer thatquestion." I hope and believe thatthe good God by the greatgovernment of the United Stateswill answer that question.I shall refer to these horrible thingsno further. They are there. God pityme, I have seen them; they willremain in my mind forever—andthis is almost the twentieth century.Christ died nineteen hundred yearsago, and Spain is a Christiannation. She has set up more crosses

in more lands, beneath more skies,and under them has butchered morepeople than all the other nations ofthe earth combined. Europe maytolerate her existence as long as thepeople of the Old World wish. Godgrant that before another Christmasmorning the last vestige of Spanishtyranny and oppression will havevanished from the WesternHemisphere!…The time for action has come. Nogreater reason for it can exist to-morrow than exists to-day. Everyhour's delay only adds anotherchapter to the awful story of miseryand death. Only one power canintervene—the United States of

America. Ours is the one greatnation in the world, the mother ofAmerican republics. She holds aposition of trust and responsibilitytoward the peoples and affairs ofthe whole Western Hemisphere. Itwas her glorious example whichinspired the patriots of Cuba toraise the flag of liberty in hereternal hills. We cannot refuse toaccept this responsibility which theGod of the universe has placedupon us as the one great power inthe New World. We must act! Whatshall our action be?Against the intervention of theUnited States in this holy causethere is but one voice of dissent;

that voice is the voice of themoney-changers. They fear war!Not because of any Christian orennobling sentiment against warand in favor of peace, but becausethey fear that a declaration of war,or the intervention which mightresult in war, would have adepressing effect upon the stockmarket. Let them go. They do notrepresent American sentiment; theydo not represent Americanpatriotism. Let them take theirchances as they can. Their weal orwoe is of but little importance tothe liberty-loving people of theUnited States. They will not do thefighting; their blood will not flow;

they will keep on dealing in optionson human life. Let the men whoseloyalty is to the dollar stand asidewhile the men whose loyalty is tothe flag come to the front.Mr. President, there is only oneaction possible, if any is taken; thatis, intervention for theindependence of the island. But wecannot intervene and save Cubawithout the exercise of force, andforce means war; war means blood.The lowly Nazarene on the shoresof Galilee preached the divinedoctrine of love, "Peace on earth,good will toward men." Not peaceon earth at the expense of libertyand humanity. Not good will

toward men who despoil, enslave,degrade, and starve to death theirfellow-men. I believe in thedoctrine of Christ. I believe in thedoctrine of peace; but, Mr.President, men must have libertybefore there can come abidingpeace.Intervention means force. Forcemeans war. War means blood. Butit will be God's force. When has abattle for humanity and liberty everbeen won except by force? Whatbarricade of wrong, injustice, andoppression has ever been carriedexcept by force?Force compelled the signature ofunwilling royalty to the great

Magna Charta; force put life intothe Declaration of Independenceand made effective theEmancipation Proclamation; forcebeat with naked hands upon the irongateway of the Bastile and madereprisal in one awful hour forcenturies of kingly crime; forcewaved the flag of revolution overBunker Hill and marked the snowsof Valley Forge with blood-stainedfeet; force held the broken line ofShiloh, climbed the flame-swepthill at Chattanooga, and stormed theclouds on Lookout Heights; forcemarched with Sherman to the sea,rode with Sheridan in the valley ofthe Shenandoah, and gave Grant

victory at Appomattox; force savedthe Union, kept the stars in the flag,made "niggers" men. The time forGod's force has come again. Let theimpassioned lips of Americanpatriots once more take up the song:—"In the beauty of the lilies, Christwas born across the sea.With aglory in His bosom that transfiguresyou and me;As He died to makemen holy, let us die to make menfree.While God is marching on."Others may hesitate, others mayprocrastinate, others may plead forfurther diplomatic negotiation,which means delay; but for me, Iam ready to act now, and for my

action I am ready to answer to myconscience, my country, and myGod.—James Mellen Thurston.

6ChapterPAUSE AND POWER

The true business of the literaryartist is to plait or weave hismeaning, involving it around itself;so that each sentence, by successivephrases, shall first come into a kindof knot, and then, after a moment ofsuspended meaning, solve and clearitself.

—George Saintsbury, on English

ProseStyle, in Miscellaneous Essays.

… pause … has a distinctive value,expressed in silence; in otherwords, while the voice is waiting,the music of the movement is goingon … To manage it, with itsdelicacies and compensations,requires that same fineness of earon which we must depend for allfaultless prose rhythm. When thereis no compensation, when the pauseis inadvertent … there is a sense ofjolting and lack, as if some pin orfastening had fallen out.

—John Franklin Genung, TheWorking Principles of Rhetoric.

Pause, in public speech, is not meresilence—it is silence made designedlyeloquent.

When a man says: "I-uh-it is withprofound-ah-pleasure that-er-I have beenpermitted to speak to you tonight and-uh-uh-I should say-er"—that is not pausing;that is stumbling. It is conceivable that aspeaker may be effective in spite ofstumbling—but never because of it.

On the other hand, one of the mostimportant means of developing power inpublic speaking is to pause either beforeor after, or both before and after, animportant word or phrase. No one whowould be a forceful speaker can affordto neglect this principle—one of themost significant that has ever been

inferred from listening to great orators.Study this potential device until youhave absorbed and assimilated it.

It would seem that this principle ofrhetorical pause ought to be easilygrasped and applied, but a longexperience in training both college menand maturer speakers has demonstratedthat the device is no more readilyunderstood by the average man when itis first explained to him than if it werespoken in Hindoostani. Perhaps this isbecause we do not eagerly devour thefruit of experience when it isimpressively set before us on the platterof authority; we like to pluck fruit forourselves—it not only tastes better, butwe never forget that tree! Fortunately,

this is no difficult task, in this instance,for the trees stand thick all about us.

One man is pleading the cause ofanother:

"This man, my friends, has made thiswonderful sacrifice—for you and me."

Did not the pause surprisinglyenhance the power of this statement? Seehow he gathered up reserve force andimpressiveness to deliver the words "foryou and me." Repeat this passagewithout making a pause. Did it lose ineffectiveness?

Naturally enough, during apremeditated pause of this kind the mindof the speaker is concentrated on thethought to which he is about to giveexpression. He will not dare to allow

his thoughts to wander for an instant—hewill rather supremely center his thoughtand his emotion upon the sacrificewhose service, sweetness and divinityhe is enforcing by his appeal.

Concentration, then, is the big wordhere—no pause without it can perfectlyhit the mark.

Efficient pausing accomplishes one orall of four results:

1. Pause Enables the Mind of theSpeaker to Gather His Forces BeforeDelivering the Final Volley

It is often dangerous to rush into battlewithout pausing for preparation orwaiting for recruits. Consider Custer'smassacre as an instance.

You can light a match by holding it

beneath a lens and concentrating thesun's rays. You would not expect thematch to flame if you jerked the lensback and forth quickly. Pause, and thelens gathers the heat. Your thoughts willnot set fire to the minds of your hearersunless you pause to gather the force thatcomes by a second or two ofconcentration. Maple trees and gas wellsare rarely tapped continually; when astronger flow is wanted, a pause ismade, nature has time to gather herreserve forces, and when the tree or thewell is reopened, a stronger flow is theresult.

Use the same common sense with yourmind. If you would make a thoughtparticularly effective, pause just before

its utterance, concentrate your mind-energies, and then give it expressionwith renewed vigor. Carlyle was right:"Speak not, I passionately entreat thee,till thy thought has silently matureditself. Out of silence comes thy strength.Speech is silvern, Silence is golden;Speech is human, Silence is divine."

Silence has been called the father ofspeech. It should be. Too many of ourpublic speeches have no fathers. Theyramble along without pause or break.Like Tennyson's brook, they run onforever. Listen to little children, thepoliceman on the corner, the familyconversation around the table, and seehow many pauses they naturally use, forthey are unconscious of effects. When

we get before an audience, we throwmost of our natural methods ofexpression to the wind, and strive afterartificial effects. Get back to themethods of nature—and pause.

2. Pause Prepares the Mind of theAuditor to Receive Your Message

Herbert Spencer said that all theuniverse is in motion. So it is—and allperfect motion is rhythm. Part of rhythmis rest. Rest follows activity all throughnature. Instances: day and night; spring—summer—autumn—winter; a periodof rest between breaths; an instant ofcomplete rest between heart beats.Pause, and give the attention-powers ofyour audience a rest. What you say aftersuch a silence will then have a great

deal more effect.When your country cousins come to

town, the noise of a passing car willawaken them, though it seldom affects aseasoned city dweller. By the continualpassing of cars his attention-power hasbecome deadened. In one who visits thecity but seldom, attention-value isinsistent. To him the noise comes after along pause; hence its power. To you,dweller in the city, there is no pause;hence the low attention-value. Afterriding on a train several hours you willbecome so accustomed to its roar that itwill lose its attention-value, unless thetrain should stop for a while and startagain. If you attempt to listen to a clock-tick that is so far away that you can

barely hear it, you will find that at timesyou are unable to distinguish it, but in afew moments the sound becomes distinctagain. Your mind will pause for restwhether you desire it to do so or not.

The attention of your audience willact in quite the same way. Recognize thislaw and prepare for it—by pausing. Letit be repeated: the thought that follows apause is much more dynamic than if nopause had occurred. What is said to youof a night will not have the same effecton your mind as if it had been uttered inthe morning when your attention hadbeen lately refreshed by the pause ofsleep. We are told on the first page ofthe Bible that even the Creative Energyof God rested on the "seventh day." You

may be sure, then, that the frail finitemind of your audience will likewisedemand rest. Observe nature, study herlaws, and obey them in your speaking.

3. Pause Creates Effective SuspenseSuspense is responsible for a great

share of our interest in life; it will be thesame with your speech. A play or anovel is often robbed of much of itsinterest if you know the plot beforehand.We like to keep guessing as to theoutcome. The ability to create suspenseis part of woman's power to hold theother sex. The circus acrobat employsthis principle when he fails purposely inseveral attempts to perform a feat, andthen achieves it. Even the deliberatemanner in which he arranges the

preliminaries increases our expectation—we like to be kept waiting. In the lastact of the play, "Polly of the Circus,"there is a circus scene in which a littledog turns a backward somersault on theback of a running pony. One night whenhe hesitated and had to be coaxed andworked with a long time before hewould perform his feat he got a greatdeal more applause than when he did histrick at once. We not only like to waitbut we appreciate what we wait for. Iffish bite too readily the sport soonceases to be a sport.

It is this same principle of suspensethat holds you in a Sherlock Holmesstory—you wait to see how the mysteryis solved, and if it is solved too soon

you throw down the tale unfinished.Wilkie Collins' receipt for fictionwriting well applies to public speech:"Make 'em laugh; make 'em weep; make'em wait." Above all else make themwait; if they will not do that you may besure they will neither laugh nor weep.

Thus pause is a valuable instrument inthe hands of a trained speaker to arouseand maintain suspense. We once heardMr. Bryan say in a speech: "It was myprivilege to hear"—and he paused,while the audience wondered for asecond whom it was his privilege tohear—"the great evangelist"—and hepaused again; we knew a little moreabout the man he had heard, but stillwondered to which evangelist he

referred; and then he concluded:"Dwight L. Moody." Mr. Bryan pausedslightly again and continued: "I came toregard him"—here he paused again andheld the audience in a brief moment ofsuspense as to how he had regarded Mr.Moody, then continued—"as the greatestpreacher of his day." Let the dashesillustrate pauses and we have thefollowing:

"It was my privilege to hear—thegreat evangelist—Dwight L.Moody.—I came to regard him—asthe greatest preacher of his day."

The unskilled speaker would haverattled this off with neither pause norsuspense, and the sentences would have

fallen flat upon the audience. It isprecisely the application of these smallthings that makes much of the differencebetween the successful and theunsuccessful speaker.

4. Pausing After An Important IdeaGives it Time to Penetrate

Any Missouri farmer will tell you thata rain that falls too fast will run off intothe creeks and do the crops but littlegood. A story is told of a country deaconpraying for rain in this manner: "Lord,don't send us any chunk floater. Just giveus a good old drizzle-drazzle." Aspeech, like a rain, will not do anybodymuch good if it comes too fast to soak in.The farmer's wife follows this sameprinciple in doing her washing when she

puts the clothes in water—and pausesfor several hours that the water may soakin. The physician puts cocaine on yourturbinates—and pauses to let it take holdbefore he removes them. Why do we usethis principle everywhere except in thecommunication of ideas? If you havegiven the audience a big idea, pause fora second or two and let them turn it over.See what effect it has. After the smokeclears away you may have to fire another14-inch shell on the same subject beforeyou demolish the citadel of error thatyou are trying to destroy. Take time.Don't let your speech resemble thosetourists who try "to do" New York in aday. They spend fifteen minutes lookingat the masterpieces in the Metropolitan

Museum of Arts, ten minutes in theMuseum of Natural History, take a peepinto the Aquarium, hurry across theBrooklyn Bridge, rush up to the Zoo, andback by Grant's Tomb—and call that"Seeing New York." If you hasten byyour important points without pausing,your audience will have just about asadequate an idea of what you have triedto convey.

Take time, you have just as much of itas our richest multimillionaire. Youraudience will wait for you. It is a sign ofsmallness to hurry. The great redwoodtrees of California had burst through thesoil five hundred years before Socratesdrank his cup of hemlock poison, and areonly in their prime today. Nature shames

us with our petty haste. Silence is one ofthe most eloquent things in the world.Master it, and use it through pause.

In the following selections dashes

have been inserted where pauses may beused effectively. Naturally, you mayomit some of these and insert otherswithout going wrong—one speakerwould interpret a passage in one way,one in another; it is largely a matter ofpersonal preference. A dozen greatactors have played Hamlet well, and yeteach has played the part differently.Which comes the nearest to perfection isa question of opinion. You will succeedbest by daring to follow your owncourse—if you are individual enough to

blaze an original trail.

A moment's halt—a momentarytaste of being from the well amidthe waste—and lo! the phantomcaravan has reached—the nothing itset out from—Oh make haste!The worldly hope men set theirhearts upon—turns ashes—or itprospers;—and anon like snowupon the desert's dusty face—lighting a little hour or two—isgone.The bird of time has but a little wayto flutter,—and the bird is on thewing.

You will note that the punctuationmarks have nothing to do with the

pausing. You may run by a period veryquickly and make a long pause wherethere is no kind of punctuation. Thoughtis greater than punctuation. It must guideyou in your pauses.

A book of verses underneath thebough,—a jug of wine, a loaf ofbread—and thou beside me singingin the wilderness—Oh—wilderness were paradise enow.

You must not confuse the pause foremphasis with the natural pauses thatcome through taking breath and phrasing.For example, note the pauses indicatedin this selection from Byron:

But hush!—hark!—that deep sound

breaks in once more,And nearer!—clearer!—deadlier thanbefore.Arm, ARM!—it is—it is thecannon's opening roar!

It is not necessary to dwell at lengthupon these obvious distinctions. Youwill observe that in natural conversationour words are gathered into clusters orphrases, and we often pause to takebreath between them. So in publicspeech, breathe naturally and do not talkuntil you must gasp for breath; nor untilthe audience is equally winded.

A serious word of caution must herebe uttered: do not overwork the pause.To do so will make your speech heavy

and stilted. And do not think that pausecan transmute commonplace thoughtsinto great and dignified utterance. Agrand manner combined withinsignificant ideas is like harnessing aHambletonian with an ass. Youremember the farcical old schooldeclamation, "A Midnight Murder," thatproceeded in grandiose manner to athrilling climax, and ended—"andrelentlessly murdered—a mosquito!"

The pause, dramatically handled,always drew a laugh from the toleranthearers. This is all very well in farce,but such anti-climax becomes painfulwhen the speaker falls from the sublimeto the ridiculous quite unintentionally.The pause, to be effective in some other

manner than in that of the boomerang,must precede or follow a thought that isreally worth while, or at least an ideawhose bearing upon the rest of thespeech is important.

William Pittenger relates in hisvolume, "Extempore Speech," aninstance of the unconsciously farcicaluse of the pause by a really greatAmerican statesman and orator. "He hadvisited Niagara Falls and was to makean oration at Buffalo the same day, but,unfortunately, he sat too long over thewine after dinner. When he arose tospeak, the oratorical instinct struggledwith difficulties, as he declared,'Gentlemen, I have been to look uponyour mag—mag—magnificent cataract,

one hundred—and forty—seven—feethigh! Gentlemen, Greece and Rome intheir palmiest days never had a cataractone hundred—and forty—seven—feethigh!'"

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Name four methods for destroying

monotony and gaining power inspeaking.

2. What are the four special effects ofpause?

3. Note the pauses in a conversation,play, or speech. Were they the best thatcould have been used? Illustrate.

4. Read aloud selections on pages 50-54 paying special attention to pause.

5. Read the following without makingany pauses. Reread correctly and notethe difference:

Soon the night will pass; and when,of the Sentinel on the ramparts ofLiberty the anxious ask: |"Watchman, what of the night?" hisanswer will be | "Lo, the mornappeareth."Knowing the price we must pay, |the sacrifice | we must make, | theburdens | we must carry, | theassaults | we must endure, | knowingfull well the cost, | yet we enlist,and we enlist | for the war. | For weknow the justice of our cause, | andwe know, too, its certain triumph. |

Not reluctantly, then, | but eagerly, |not with faint hearts, | but strong, dowe now advance upon the enemiesof the people. | For the call thatcomes to us is the call that came toour fathers. | As they responded, soshall we."He hath sounded forth a trumpet |that shall never call retreat,He issifting out the hearts of men | beforeHis judgment seat.Oh, be swift | oursouls to answer Him, | be jubilantour feet,Our God | is marching on."

—Albert J. Beveride, From hisspeech as temporary chairman of

Progressive National Convention,Chicago, 1912.

6. Bring out the contrasting ideas inthe following by using the pause:

Contrast now the circumstances ofyour life and mine, gently and withtemper, Æschines; and then askthese people whose fortune theywould each of them prefer. Youtaught reading, I went to school:you performed initiations, Ireceived them: you danced in thechorus, I furnished it: you wereassembly-clerk, I was a speaker:you acted third parts, I heard you:you broke down, and I hissed: youhave worked as a statesman for theenemy, I for my country. I pass bythe rest; but this very day I am on

my probation for a crown, and amacknowledged to be innocent of alloffence; while you are alreadyjudged to be a pettifogger, and thequestion is, whether you shallcontinue that trade, or at once besilenced by not getting a fifth partof the votes. A happy fortune, doyou see, you have enjoyed, that youshould denounce mine asmiserable!

—Demosthenes.

7. After careful study and practice,mark the pauses in the following:

The past rises before me like adream. Again we are in the greatstruggle for national life. We hear

the sounds of preparation—themusic of the boisterous drums, thesilver voices of heroic bugles. Wesee thousands of assemblages, andhear the appeals of orators; we seethe pale cheeks of women and theflushed faces of men; and in thoseassemblages we see all the deadwhose dust we have covered withflowers. We lose sight of them nomore. We are with them when theyenlist in the great army of freedom.We see them part from those theylove. Some are walking for the lasttime in quiet woody places with themaiden they adore. We hear thewhisperings and the sweet vows ofeternal love as they lingeringly part

forever. Others are bending overcradles, kissing babies that areasleep. Some are receiving theblessings of old men. Some areparting from those who hold themand press them to their hearts againand again, and say nothing; andsome are talking with wives, andendeavoring with brave wordsspoken in the old tones to drivefrom their hearts the awful fear. Wesee them part. We see the wifestanding in the door, with the babein her arms—standing in thesunlight sobbing; at the turn of theroad a hand waves—she answersby holding high in her loving handsthe child. He is gone—and forever.

—Robert J. Ingersoll, to theSoldiers of Indianapolis.

8. Where would you pause in thefollowing selections? Try pausing indifferent places and note the effect itgives.

The moving finger writes; andhaving writ moves on: nor all yourpiety nor wit shall lure it back tocancel half a line, nor all your tearswash out a word of it.The history of womankind is a storyof abuse. For ages men beat, sold,and abused their wives anddaughters like cattle. The Spartanmother that gave birth to one of herown sex disgraced herself; the girl

babies were often deserted in themountains to starve; China boundand deformed their feet; Turkeyveiled their faces; America deniedthem equal educational advantageswith men. Most of the world stillrefuses them the right to participatein the government and everywherewomen bear the brunt of an unequalstandard of morality.But the women are on the march.They are walking upward to thesunlit plains where the thinkingpeople rule. China has ceasedbinding their feet. In the shadow ofthe Harem Turkey has opened aschool for girls. America has giventhe women equal educational

advantages, and America, webelieve, will enfranchise them.We can do little to help and notmuch to hinder this great movement.The thinking people have put theirO.K. upon it. It is moving forwardto its goal just as surely as this oldearth is swinging from the grip ofwinter toward the spring'sblossoms and the summer'sharvest.[1]

9. Read aloud the following address,paying careful attention to pausewherever the emphasis may thereby beheightened.

THE IRREPRESSIBLE CONFLICT

… At last, the Republican party hasappeared. It avows, now, as theRepublican party of 1800 did, inone word, its faith and its works,"Equal and exact justice to allmen." Even when it first entered thefield, only half organized, it strucka blow which only just failed tosecure complete and triumphantvictory. In this, its secondcampaign, it has already wonadvantages which render thattriumph now both easy and certain.The secret of its assured successlies in that very characteristicwhich, in the mouth of scoffers,constitutes its great and lastingimbecility and reproach. It lies in

the fact that it is a party of one idea;but that is a noble one—an idea thatfills and expands all generoussouls; the idea of equality of allmen before human tribunals andhuman laws, as they all are equalbefore the Divine tribunal andDivine laws.I know, and you know, that arevolution has begun. I know, andall the world knows, thatrevolutions never go backward.Twenty senators and a hundredrepresentatives proclaim boldly inCongress to-day sentiments andopinions and principles of freedomwhich hardly so many men, even inthis free State, dared to utter in

their own homes twenty years ago.While the government of the UnitedStates, under the conduct of theDemocratic party, has been all thattime surrendering one plain andcastle after another to slavery, thepeople of the United States havebeen no less steadily andperseveringly gathering together theforces with which to recover backagain all the fields and all thecastles which have been lost, and toconfound and overthrow, by onedecisive blow, the betrayers of theConstitution and freedom forever.—W.H. Seward.

7ChapterEFFICIENCYTHROUGHINFLECTION

How soft the music of those villagebells,Falling at intervals upon the earIn cadence sweet; now dying allaway,Now pealing loud again, and louder

still,Clear and sonorous, as the galecomes on!With easy force it opens all thecellsWhere Memory slept.

—William Cowper, The Task.

Herbert Spencer remarked that"Cadence"—by which he meant themodulation of the tones of the voice inspeaking—"is the running commentary ofthe emotions upon the propositions of theintellect." How true this is will appearwhen we reflect that the little upwardand downward shadings of the voice tellmore truly what we mean than ourwords. The expressiveness of language

is literally multiplied by this subtlepower to shade the vocal tones, and thisvoice-shading we call inflection.

The change of pitch within a word iseven more important, because moredelicate, than the change of pitch fromphrase to phrase. Indeed, one cannot bepractised without the other. The barewords are only so many bricks—inflection will make of them a pavement,a garage, or a cathedral. It is the powerof inflection to change the meaning ofwords that gave birth to the old saying:"It is not so much what you say, as howyou say it."

Mrs. Jameson, the Shakespeareancommentator, has given us a penetratingexample of the effect of inflection; "In

her impersonation of the part of LadyMacbeth, Mrs. Siddons adoptedsuccessively three different intonationsin giving the words 'We fail.' At first aquick contemptuous interrogation—'Wefail?' Afterwards, with the note ofadmiration—'We fail,' an accent ofindignant astonishment laying theprincipal emphasis on the word'we'—'we fail.' Lastly, she fixed on whatI am convinced is the true reading—Wefail—with the simple period, modulatingthe voice to a deep, low, resolute tonewhich settles the issue at once as thoughshe had said: 'If we fail, why then wefail, and all is over.'"

This most expressive element of ourspeech is the last to be mastered in

attaining to naturalness in speaking aforeign language, and its correct use isthe main element in a natural, flexibleutterance of our native tongue. Withoutvaried inflections speech becomeswooden and monotonous.

There are but two kinds of inflection,the rising and the falling, yet these twomay be so shaded or so combined thatthey are capable of producing as manyvarieties of modulation as maybeillustrated by either one or two lines,straight or curved, thus:

Sharp risingLong risingLevelLong falling

Sharp fallingSharp rising and fallingSharp falling and risingHesitating

These may be varied indefinitely, andserve merely to illustrate what widevarieties of combination may be effectedby these two simple inflections of thevoice.

It is impossible to tabulate the variousinflections which serve to expressvarious shades of thought and feeling. Afew suggestions are offered here,together with abundant exercises forpractise, but the only real way to masterinflection is to observe, experiment, andpractise.

For example, take the commonsentence, "Oh, he's all right." Note howa rising inflection may be made toexpress faint praise, or polite doubt, oruncertainty of opinion. Then note howthe same words, spoken with a generallyfalling inflection may denote certainty,or good-natured approval, orenthusiastic praise, and so on.

In general, then, we find that abending upward of the voice willsuggest doubt and uncertainty, while adecided falling inflection will suggestthat you are certain of your ground.

Students dislike to be told that theirspeeches are "not so bad," spoken with arising inflection. To enunciate thesewords with a long falling inflection

would indorse the speech rather heartily.Say good-bye to an imaginary person

whom you expect to see again tomorrow;then to a dear friend you never expect tomeet again. Note the difference ininflection.

"I have had a delightful time," whenspoken at the termination of a formal teaby a frivolous woman takes altogetherdifferent inflection than the same wordsspoken between lovers who haveenjoyed themselves. Mimic the twocharacters in repeating this and observethe difference.

Note how light and short theinflections are in the following briefquotation from "Anthony the Absolute,"by Samuel Mervin.

At Sea—March 28th.This evening I told Sir RobertWhat's His Name he was a fool.I was quite right in this. He is.Every evening since the ship leftVancouver he has presided over theround table in the middle of thesmoking-room. There he sips hiscoffee and liqueur, and holds forthon every subject known to the mindof man. Each subject is his subject.He is an elderly person, with a badface and a drooping left eyelid.They tell me that he is in the BritishService—a judge somewhere downin Malaysia, where they drink morethan is good for them.

Deliver the two following selectionswith great earnestness, and note how theinflections differ from the foregoing.Then reread these selections in a light,superficial manner, noting that thechange of attitude is expressed through achange of inflection.

When I read a sublime fact inPlutarch, or an unselfish deed in aline of poetry, or thrill beneathsome heroic legend, it is no longerfairyland—I have seen it matched.—Wendell Phillips.Thought is deeper than all speech, Feeling deeper than all thought;Souls to souls can never teach What unto themselves was

taught.—Cranch

It must be made perfectly clear thatinflection deals mostly in subtle,delicate shading within single words,and is not by any means accomplishedby a general rise or fall in the voice inspeaking a sentence. Yet certainsentences may be effectively deliveredwith just such inflection. Try thissentence in several ways, makingno modulation until you come to the lasttwo syllables, as indicated,<

tbody>And yet I told him dis-

—————————————

(high) |

| tinctly.

————————————

(low)

tinctly.

————————————

| (high)

And yet I told him dis- |

————————————

(low)

Now try this sentence by inflecting theimportant words so as to bring outvarious shades of meaning. The firstforms, illustrated above, show change of

pitch within a single word; the formsyou will work out for yourself shouldshow a number of such inflectionsthroughout the sentence.

One of the chief means of securingemphasis is to employ a long fallinginflection on the emphatic words—thatis, to let the voice fall to a lower pitchon an interior vowel sound in a word.Try it on the words "every,""eleemosynary," and "destroy."

Use long falling inflections on theitalicized words in the followingselection, noting their emphatic power.Are there any other words here that longfalling inflections would help to makeexpressive?

ADDRESS IN THE DARTMOUTHCOLLEGE CASEThis, sir, is my case. It is the casenot merely of that humbleinstitution; it is the caseof every college in our land. Itis more; it is the case of everyeleemosynary institution throughoutour country—of all those greatcharities founded by the piety ofour ancestors to alleviate humanmisery and scatter blessings alongthe pathway of life. Sir, youmay destroy this little institution—it is weak, it is in your hands. Iknow it is one of the lesser lights inthe literary horizon of our country.You may put it out. But if you do

you must carry through your work;you must extinguish, one afteranother, all those great lights ofscience which, for more than acentury, have thrown their radianceover our land!It is, sir, as I have said, a smallcollege, and yet—there are thosewho love it!Sir, I know not how others mayfeel, but as for myself when I seemy alma mater surrounded, likeCæsar in the senate house, by thosewho are reiterating stab after stab,I would not for this right hand haveher turn to me and say, And thou,too, my son!

—Daniel Webster.

Be careful not to over-inflect. Toomuch modulation produces an unpleasanteffect of artificiality, like a maturematron trying to be kittenish. It is a shortstep between true expression andunintentional burlesque. Scrutinize yourown tones. Take a single expression like"Oh, no!" or "Oh, I see," or "Indeed,"and by patient self-examination see howmany shades of meaning may beexpressed by inflection. This sort ofcommon-sense practise will do youmore good than a book of rules. Butdon't forget to listen to your own voice.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. In your own words define (a)

cadence, (b) modulation, (c) inflection,(d) emphasis.

2. Name five ways of destroyingmonotony and gaining effectiveness inspeech.

3. What states of mind does fallinginflection signify? Make as full a list asyou can.

4. Do the same for the risinginflection.

5. How does the voice bend inexpressing (a) surprise? (b) shame? (c)hate? (d) formality? (e) excitement?

6. Reread some sentence severaltimes and by using different inflectionschange the meaning with each reading.

7. Note the inflections employed insome speech or conversation. Were they

the best that could be used to bring outthe meaning? Criticise and illustrate.

8. Render the following passages:

Has the gentleman done? Has hecompletely done?And God said, Let there be light:and there was light.

9. Invent an indirect question andshow how it would naturally beinflected.

10. Does a direct question alwaysrequire a rising inflection? Illustrate.

11. Illustrate how the complete endingof an expression or of a speech isindicated by inflection.

12. Do the same for incompleteness ofidea.

13. Illustrate (a) trembling, (b)hesitation, and (c) doubt by means ofinflection.

14. Show how contrast may beexpressed.

15. Try the effects of both rising andfalling inflections on the italicizedwords in the following sentences. Stateyour preference.

Gentlemen, I am persuaded, nay, Iam resolved to speak.

It is sown a natural body; it is raiseda spiritual body.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTISEIn the following selections secure

emphasis by means of long fallinginflections rather than loudness.

Repeat these selections, attempting toput into practise all the technicalprinciples that we have thus far had;emphasizing important words,subordinating unimportant words,variety of pitch, changing tempo, pause,and inflection. If these principles areapplied you will have no trouble withmonotony.

Constant practise will give greatfacility in the use of inflection and willrender the voice itself flexible.

CHARLES IWe charge him with having brokenhis coronation oath; and we are toldthat he kept his marriage vow! Weaccuse him of having given up his

people to the merciless inflictionsof the most hot-headed and hard-hearted of prelates; and the defenceis, that he took his little son on hisknee and kissed him! We censurehim for having violated the articlesof the Petition of Right, afterhaving, for good and valuableconsideration, promised to observethem; and we are informed that hewas accustomed to hear prayers atsix o'clock in the morning! It is tosuch considerations as these,together with his Vandyke dress,his handsome face, and his peakedbeard, that he owes, we verilybelieve, most of his popularity withthe present generation.

—T.B. Macaulay.ABRAHAM LINCOLNWe needed not that he should put onpaper that he believed in slavery,who, with treason, with murder,with cruelty infernal, hoveredaround that majestic man to destroyhis life. He was himself but thelong sting with which slaverystruck at liberty; and he carried thepoison that belonged to slavery. Aslong as this nation lasts, it willnever be forgotten that we haveone martyred President—never!Never, while time lasts, whileheaven lasts, while hell rocks andgroans, will it be forgotten thatslavery, by its minions, slew him,

and in slaying him made manifestits whole nature and tendency.But another thing for us toremember is that this blow wasaimed at the life of the governmentand of the nation. Lincoln wasslain; America was meant. The manwas cast down; the government wassmitten at. It was the President whowas killed. It was national life,breathing freedom and meaningbeneficence, that was sought. He,the man of Illinois, the private man,divested of robes and the insigniaof authority, representing nothingbut his personal self, might havebeen hated; but that would not havecalled forth the murderer's blow. It

was because he stood in the placeof government, representinggovernment and a government thatrepresented right and liberty, thathe was singled out.This, then, is a crime againstuniversal government. It is not ablow at the foundations of ourgovernment, more than at thefoundations of the Englishgovernment, of the Frenchgovernment, of every compact andwell-organized government. It wasa crime against mankind. Thewhole world will repudiate andstigmatize it as a deed without ashade of redeeming light… .The blow, however, has signally

failed. The cause is not stricken; itis strengthened. This nation hasdissolved,—but in tears only. Itstands, four-square, more solid, to-day, than any pyramid in Egypt.This people are neither wasted, nordaunted, nor disordered. Men hateslavery and love liberty withstronger hate and love to-day thanever before. The Government is notweakened, it is made stronger… .And now the martyr is moving intriumphal march, mightier thanwhen alive. The nation rises up atevery stage of his coming. Citiesand states are his pall-bearers, andthe cannon beats the hours withsolemn progression. Dead—dead

—dead—he yet speaketh! IsWashington dead? Is Hampdendead? Is David dead? Is any mandead that ever was fit to live?Disenthralled of flesh, and risen tothe unobstructed sphere wherepassion never comes, he begins hisillimitable work. His life now isgrafted upon the Infinite, and willbe fruitful as no earthly life can be.Pass on, thou that hast overcome!Your sorrows O people, are hispeace! Your bells, and bands, andmuffled drums sound triumph in hisear. Wail and weep here; Godmakes it echo joy and triumphthere. Pass on, victor!Four years ago, O Illinois, we took

from your midst an untried man, andfrom among the people; we returnhim to you a mighty conqueror. Notthine any more, but the nation's; notours, but the world's. Give himplace, ye prairies! In the midst ofthis great Continent his dust shallrest, a sacred treasure to myriadswho shall make pilgrimage to thatshrine to kindle anew their zeal andpatriotism. Ye winds, that moveover the mighty places of the West,chant his requiem! Ye people,behold a martyr, whose blood, asso many inarticulate words, pleadsfor fidelity, for law, for liberty!—Henry Ward Beecher.

THE HISTORY OF LIBERTY

The event which we commemorateis all-important, not merely in ourown annals, but in those of theworld. The sententious English poethas declared that "the proper studyof mankind is man," and of allinquiries of a temporal nature, thehistory of our fellow-beings isunquestionably among the mostinteresting. But not all the chaptersof human history are alikeimportant. The annals of our racehave been filled up with incidentswhich concern not, or at least oughtnot to concern, the great companyof mankind. History, as it has oftenbeen written, is the genealogy ofprinces, the field-book of

conquerors; and the fortunes of ourfellow-men have been treated onlyso far as they have been affected bythe influence of the great mastersand destroyers of our race. Suchhistory is, I will not say a worthlessstudy, for it is necessary for us toknow the dark side as well as thebright side of our condition. But itis a melancholy study which fillsthe bosom of the philanthropist andthe friend of liberty with sorrow.But the history of liberty—thehistory of men struggling to be free—the history of men who haveacquired and are exercising theirfreedom—the history of those greatmovements in the world, by which

liberty has been established andperpetuated, forms a subject whichwe cannot contemplate too closely.This is the real history of man, ofthe human family, of rationalimmortal beings… .The trial of adversity was theirs;the trial of prosperity is ours. Let usmeet it as men who know their dutyand prize their blessings. Ourposition is the most enviable, themost responsible, which men canfill. If this generation does its duty,the cause of constitutional freedomis safe. If we fail—if we fail—notonly do we defraud our children ofthe inheritance which we receivedfrom our fathers, but we blast the

hopes of the friends of libertythroughout our continent, throughoutEurope, throughout the world, to theend of time.History is not without her examplesof hard-fought fields, where thebanner of liberty has floatedtriumphantly on the wildest stormof battle. She is without herexamples of a people by whom thedear-bought treasure has beenwisely employed and safely handeddown. The eyes of the world areturned for that example to us… .Let us, then, as we assemble on thebirthday of the nation, as we gatherupon the green turf, once wet withprecious blood—let us devote

ourselves to the sacred cause ofconstitutional liberty! Let us abjurethe interests and passions whichdivide the great family of Americanfreemen! Let the rage of party spiritsleep to-day! Let us resolve that ourchildren shall have cause to blessthe memory of their fathers, as wehave cause to bless the memory ofours!—Edward Everett.

8ChapterCONCENTRATIONIN DELIVERY

Attention is the microscope of themental eye. Its power may be highor low; its field of view narrow orbroad. When high power is usedattention is confined within verycircumscribed limits, but its actionis exceedingly intense and

absorbing. It sees but few things,but these few are observed "throughand through" … Mental energy andactivity, whether of perception orof thought, thus concentrated, actlike the sun's rays concentrated bythe burning glass. The object isillumined, heated, set on fire.Impressions are so deep that theycan never be effaced. Attention ofthis sort is the prime condition ofthe most productive mental labor.

—Daniel Putnam, Psychology.

Try to rub the top of your headforward and backward at the same timethat you are patting your chest. Unlessyour powers of coördination are well

developed you will find it confusing, ifnot impossible. The brain needs specialtraining before it can do two or morethings efficiently at the same instant. Itmay seem like splitting a hair betweenits north and northwest corner, but somepsychologists argue that no brain canthink two distinct thoughts, absolutelysimultaneously—that what seems to besimultaneous is really very rapidrotation from the first thought to thesecond and back again, just as in theabove-cited experiment the attentionmust shift from one hand to the otheruntil one or the other movement becomespartly or wholly automatic.

Whatever is the psychological truth ofthis contention it is undeniable that the

mind measurably loses grip on one ideathe moment the attention is projecteddecidedly ahead to a second or a thirdidea.

A fault in public speakers that is aspernicious as it is common is that theytry to think of the succeeding sentencewhile still uttering the former, and in thisway their concentration trails off; inconsequence, they start their sentencesstrongly and end them weakly. In a well-prepared written speech the emphaticword usually comes at one end of thesentence. But an emphatic word needsemphatic expression, and this isprecisely what it does not get whenconcentration flags by leaping too soonto that which is next to be uttered.

Concentrate all your mental energies onthe present sentence. Remember that themind of your audience follows yoursvery closely, and if you withdraw yourattention from what you are saying towhat you are going to say, your audiencewill also withdraw theirs. They may notdo so consciously and deliberately, butthey will surely cease to giveimportance to the things that you yourselfslight. It is fatal to either the actor or thespeaker to cross his bridges too soon.

Of course, all this is not to say that inthe natural pauses of your speech you arenot to take swift forward surveys—theyare as important as the forward look indriving a motor car; the caution is ofquite another sort: while speaking one

sentence do not think of the sentence tofollow. Let it come from its propersource—within yourself. You cannotdeliver a broadside withoutconcentrated force—that is whatproduces the explosion. In preparationyou store and concentrate thought andfeeling; in the pauses during deliveryyou swiftly look ahead and gatheryourself for effective attack; during themoments of actual speech, SPEAK—DON'T ANTICIPATE . Divide yourattention and you divide your power.

This matter of the effect of the innerman upon the outer needs a further wordhere, particularly as touchingconcentration.

"What do you read, my lord?" Hamlet

replied, "Words. Words. Words." Thatis a world-old trouble. The mechanicalcalling of words is not expression, by along stretch. Did you ever notice howhollow a memorized speech usuallysounds? You have listened to the ranting,mechanical cadence of inefficient actors,lawyers and preachers. Their trouble isa mental one—they are notconcentratedly thinking thoughts thatcause words to issue with sincerity andconviction, but are merely enunciatingword-sounds mechanically. Painfulexperience alike to audience and tospeaker! A parrot is equally eloquent.Again let Shakespeare instruct us, thistune in the insincere prayer of the King,Hamlet's uncle. He laments thus

pointedly:

My words fly up, my thoughtsremain below:Words without thoughts never toheaven go.

The truth is, that as a speaker yourwords must be born again every timethey are spoken, then they will not sufferin their utterance, even though perforcecommitted to memory and repeated, likeDr. Russell Conwell's lecture, "Acres ofDiamonds," five thousand times. Suchspeeches lose nothing by repetition forthe perfectly patent reason that they arisefrom concentrated thought and feelingand not a mere necessity for sayingsomething—which usually means

anything, and that, in turn, is tantamountto nothing. If the thought beneath yourwords is warm, fresh, spontaneous, apart of your self, your utterance willhave breath and life. Words are only aresult. Do not try to get the result withoutstimulating the cause.

Do you ask how to concentrate? Thinkof the word itself, and of its philologicalbrother, concentric. Think of how a lensgathers and concenters the rays of lightwithin a given circle. It centers them bya process of withdrawal. It may seemlike a harsh saying, but the man whocannot concentrate is either weak ofwill, a nervous wreck, or has neverlearned what will-power is good for.

You must concentrate by resolutely

withdrawing your attention fromeverything else. If you concentrate yourthought on a pain which may be afflictingyou, that pain will grow more intense."Count your blessings" and they willmultiply. Center your thought on yourstrokes and your tennis play willgradually improve. To concentrate issimply to attend to one thing, and attendto nothing else. If you find that youcannot do that, there is something wrong—attend to that first. Remove the causeand the symptom will disappear. Readthe chapter on "Will Power." Cultivateyour will by willing and then doing, atall costs. Concentrate—and you willwin.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES 1. Select from any source several

sentences suitable for speaking aloud;deliver them first in the mannercondemned in this chapter, and secondwith due regard for emphasis toward theclose of each sentence.

2. Put into about one hundred wordsyour impression of the effect produced.

3. Tell of any peculiar methods youmay have observed or heard of by whichspeakers have sought to aid their powersof concentration, such as looking fixedlyat a blank spot in the ceiling, or twistinga watch charm.

4. What effect do such habits have onthe audience?

5. What relation does pause bear toconcentration?

6. Tell why concentration naturallyhelps a speaker to change pitch, tempo,and emphasis.

7. Read the following selectionthrough to get its meaning and spiritclearly in your mind. Then read it aloud,concentrating solely on the thought thatyou are expressing—do not troubleabout the sentence or thought that iscoming. Half the troubles of mankindarise from anticipating trials that neveroccur. Avoid this in speaking. Make theend of your sentences just as strong asthe beginning.CONCENTRATE.

WAR!

The last of the savage instincts iswar. The cave man's club made lawand procured food. Might decreedright. Warriors were saviours.In Nazareth a carpenter laid downthe saw and preached thebrotherhood of man. Twelvecenturies afterwards his followersmarched to the Holy Land todestroy all who differed with themin the worship of the God of Love.Triumphantly they wrote "InSolomon's Porch and in his templeour men rode in the blood of theSaracens up to the knees of theirhorses."History is an appalling tale of war.In the seventeenth century Germany,

France, Sweden, and Spain warredfor thirty years. At Magdeburg30,000 out of 36,000 were killedregardless of sex or age. InGermany schools were closed for athird of a century, homes burned,women outraged, townsdemolished, and the untilled landbecame a wilderness.Two-thirds of Germany's propertywas destroyed and 18,000,000 ofher citizens were killed, becausemen quarrelled about the way toglorify "The Prince of Peace."Marching through rain and snow,sleeping on the ground, eating stalefood or starving, contractingdiseases and facing guns that fire

six hundred times a minute, for fiftycents a day—this is the soldier'slife.At the window sits the widowedmother crying. Little children withtearful faces pressed against thepane watch and wait. Their meansof livelihood, their home, theirhappiness is gone. Fatherlesschildren, broken-hearted women,sick, disabled and dead men—thisis the wage of war.We spend more money preparingmen to kill each other than we do inteaching them to live. We spendmore money building one battleshipthan in the annual maintenance ofall our state universities. The

financial loss resulting fromdestroying one another's homes inthe civil war would have built15,000,000 houses, each costing$2,000. We pray for love butprepare for hate. We preach peacebut equip for war.

Were half the power that fills theworld with terror,Were half the wealth bestowed oncamp and courtGiven to redeem this world fromerror,There would be no need of arsenaland fort.

War only defers a question. Noissue will ever really be settled

until it is settled rightly. Like rival"gun gangs" in a back alley, thenations of the world, through thebloody ages, have fought over theirdifferences. Denver cannot fightChicago and Iowa cannot fightOhio. Why should Germany bepermitted to fight France, orBulgaria fight Turkey?When mankind rises above creeds,colors and countries, when we arecitizens, not of a nation, but of theworld, the armies and navies of theearth will constitute aninternational police force topreserve the peace and the dovewill take the eagle's place.Our differences will be settled by

an international court with thepower to enforce its mandates. Intimes of peace prepare for peace.The wages of war are the wages ofsin, and the "wages of sin is death."—Editorial by D.C., Leslie'sWeekly; used by permission.

9ChapterFORCE

However, 'tis expedient to be wary:Indifference, certes, don't producedistress;And rash enthusiasm in goodsocietyWere nothing but a moral inebriety.

—Byron, Don Juan.

You have attended plays that seemed

fair, yet they did not move you, grip you.In theatrical parlance, they failed to "getover," which means that their messagedid not get over the foot-lights to theaudience. There was no punch, no jab tothem—they had no force.

Of course, all this spells disaster, inbig letters, not only in a stage productionbut in any platform effort. Every suchpresentation exists solely for theaudience, and if it fails to hit them—andthe expression is a good one—it has noexcuse for living; nor will it live long.

What is Force?Some of our most obvious words

open up secret meanings under scrutiny,and this is one of them.

To begin with, we must recognize the

distinction between inner and outerforce. The one is cause, the other effect.The one is spiritual, the other physical.In this important particular, animateforce differs from inanimate force—thepower of man, coming from within andexpressing itself outwardly, is of anothersort from the force of Shimose powder,which awaits some influence fromwithout to explode it. Howeversusceptive to outside stimuli, the truesource of power in man lies withinhimself. This may seem like "merepsychology," but it has an intenselypractical bearing on public speaking, aswill appear.

Not only must we discern thedifference between human force and

mere physical force, but we must notconfuse its real essence with some of thethings that may—and may not—accompany it. For example, loudness isnot force, though force at times may beattended by noise. Mere roaring nevermade a good speech, yet there aremoments—moments, mind you, notminutes—when big voice power may beused with tremendous effect.

Nor is violent motion force—yetforce may result in violent motion.Hamlet counseled the players:

Nor do not saw the air too muchwith your hand, thus; but use allgently; for in the very torrent,tempest, and (as I may say)

whirlwind of your passion, youmust acquire and beget atemperance, that may give itsmoothness. Oh, it offends me to thesoul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion totatters, to very rags, to split the earsof the groundlings[2]; who, for themost part, are capable of nothingbut inexplicable dumb show, andnoise. I would have such a fellowwhipped for o'er-doing Termagant;it out-herods Herod. Pray youavoid it.Be not too tame, neither, but letyour discretion be your tutor: suitthe action to the word, the word tothe action; with this special

observance, that you o'erstep notthe modesty of nature; for anythingso overdone is from the purpose ofplaying, whose end, both at thefirst, and now, was, and is, to hold,as 'twere, the mirror up to Nature,to show Virtue her own feature,Scorn her own image, and the veryage and body of the time his formand pressure. Now, this overdone,or come tardy off, though it makethe unskillful laugh, cannot butmake the judicious grieve; thecensure of the which one must, inyour allowance, o'erweigh a wholetheater of others. Oh, there beplayers that I have seen play—andheard others praise, and that highly

—not to speak it profanely, that,neither having the accent ofChristians, nor the gait of Christian,pagan, or man, have so strutted andbellowed that I have thought someof Nature's journeymen had mademen, and not made them well, theyimitated humanity so abominably.[3]

Force is both a cause and an effect.Inner force, which must precede outerforce, is a combination of four elements,acting progressively. First of all, forcearises from conviction. You must beconvinced of the truth, or the importance,or the meaning, of what you are about tosay before you can give it forcefuldelivery. It must lay strong hold upon

your convictions before it can grip youraudience. Conviction convinces.

The Saturday Evening Post in anarticle on "England's T.R."—WinstonSpencer Churchill—attributed much ofChurchill's and Roosevelt's publicplatform success to their forcefuldelivery. No matter what is in hand,these men make themselves believe forthe time being that that one thing is themost important on earth. Hence theyspeak to their audiences in a Do-this-or-you-PERISHmanner.

That kind of speaking wins, and it isthat virile, strenuous, aggressive attitudewhich both distinguishes and maintainsthe platform careers of our greatestleaders.

But let us look a little closer at theorigins of inner force. How doesconviction affect the man who feelsit? We have answered the inquiry in thevery question itself—h e feels it: Conviction producesemotional tension. Study the pictures ofTheodore Roosevelt and of Billy Sundayin action—action is the word. Note thetension of their jaw muscles, the tautlines of sinews in their entire bodieswhen reaching a climax of force. Moraland physical force are alike in beingboth preceded and accompanied byin-tens-ity—tension—tightness of thecords of power.

It is this tautness of the bow-string,this knotting of the muscles, this

contraction before the spring, that makesan audience feel—almost see—thereserve power in a speaker. In somereally wonderful way it is more what aspeaker does not say and do that revealsthe dynamo within. Anything may comefrom such stored-up force once it is letloose; and that keeps an audience alert,hanging on the lips of a speaker for hisnext word. After all, it is all a questionof manhood, for a stuffed doll hasneither convictions nor emotionaltension. If you are upholstered withsawdust, keep off the platform, for yourown speech will puncture you.

Growing out of this conviction-tension comes resolve to make theaudience share that conviction-tension.

Purpose is the backbone of force;without it speech is flabby—it mayglitter, but it is the iridescence of thespineless jellyfish. You must hold fast toyour resolve if you would hold fast toyour audience.

Finally, all this conviction-tension-purpose is lifeless and useless unless itresults in propulsion. You rememberhow Young in his wonderful "NightThoughts" delineates the man who

Pushes his prudent purpose toresolve,Resolves, and re-resolves, and diesthe same.

Let not your force "die a-borning,"—bring it to full life in its conviction,

emotional tension, resolve, andpropulsive power.

Can Force be Acquired?Yes, if the acquirer has any such

capacities as we have just outlined.How to acquire this vital factor issuggested in its very analysis: Live withyour subject until you are convinced ofits importance.

If your message does not of itselfarouse you to tension, PULL yourselftogether. When a man faces the necessityof leaping across a crevasse he does notwait for inspiration, he wills his musclesinto tensity for the spring—it is notwithout purpose that our Englishlanguage uses the same word to depict amighty though delicate steel contrivance

and a quick leap through the air. Thenresolve—and let it all end inactual punch.

This truth is worth reiteration: Theman within is the final factor. He mustsupply the fuel. The audience, or eventhe man himself, may add the match—itmatters little which, only so that there befire. However skillfully your engine isconstructed, however well it works, youwill have no force if the fire has goneout under the boiler. It matters little howwell you have mastered poise, pause,modulation, and tempo, if your speechlacks fire it is dead. Neither a deadengine nor a dead speech will moveanybody.

Four factors of force are measurably

within your control, and in that far maybe acquired: ideas, feeling about thesubject, wording, and delivery. Each ofthese is more or less fully discussed inthis volume, except wording, whichreally requires a fuller rhetorical studythan can here be ventured. It is,however, of the utmost importance thatyou should be aware of precisely howwording bears upon force in a sentence.Study "The Working Principles ofRhetoric," by John Franklin Genung, orthe rhetorical treatises of AdamsSherman Hill, of Charles SearsBaldwin, or any others whose namesmay easily be learned from any teacher.

Here are a few suggestions on the useof words to attain force:

Choice of WordsPLAIN words are more forceful than

words less commonly used—juggle hasmore vigor than prestidigitate.

SHORT words are stronger than longwords—end has more directnessthan terminate.

SAXON words are usually moreforceful than Latinistic words—forforce, use wars against ratherthan militate against.

SPECIFIC words are stronger thangeneral words—pressman ismore definite than printer.

CONNOTATIVE words, those thatsuggest more than they say, havemore power than ordinary words—"She let herself be married" expresses

more than "She married."EPITHETS, figuratively descriptive

words, are more effective thandirect names—"Go tell that old fox," hasmore "punch" than "Go tell that slyfellow."

ONOMATOPOETIC words, wordsthat convey the sense by the sound, aremore powerful than other words—crash is moreeffective than cataclysm.

Arrangement of wordsCut out modifiers.Cut out connectives.Begin with words that demand

attention."End with words that deserve

distinction," says Prof. Barrett Wendell.

Set strong ideas over against weakerones, so as to gain strength bythe contrast.

Avoid elaborate sentence structure—short sentences are stronger than longones.

Cut out every useless word, so as togive prominence to the really importantones.

Let each sentence be a condensedbattering ram, swinging to its final blowon the attention.

A familiar, homely idiom, if not wornby much use, is more effective than ahighly formal, scholarly expression.

Consider well the relative value ofdifferent positions in the sentence so thatyou may give the prominent place to

ideas you wish to emphasize."But," says someone, "is it not more

honest to depend the inherent interest ina subject, its native truth, clearness andsincerity of presentation, and beauty ofutterance, to win your audience? Whynot charm men instead of capturing themby assault?"

Why Use Force?There is much truth in such an appeal,

but not all the truth. Clearness,persuasion, beauty, simple statement oftruth, are all essential—indeed, they areall definite parts of a forcefulpresentment of a subject, without beingthe only parts. Strong meat may not be asattractive as ices, but all depends on theappetite and the stage of the meal.

You can not deliver an aggressivemessage with caressing little strokes.No! Jab it in with hard, swift solarplexus punches. You cannot strike firefrom flint or from an audience with lovetaps. Say to a crowded theatre in alackadaisical manner: "It seems to methat the house is on fire," and yourannouncement may be greeted with alaugh. If you flash out the words: "Thehouse's on fire!" they will crush oneanother in getting to the exits.

The spirit and the language of forceare definite with conviction. Noimmortal speech in literature containssuch expressions as "it seems to me," "Ishould judge," "in my opinion," "Isuppose," "perhaps it is true." The

speeches that will live have beendelivered by men ablaze with thecourage of their convictions, who utteredtheir words as eternal truth. Of Jesus itwas said that "the common people heardHim gladly." Why? "He taught them asone having AUTHORITY." An audiencewill never be moved by what "seems" toyou to be truth or what in your "humbleopinion" may be so. If you honestly can,assert convictions as your conclusions.Be sure you are right before you speakyour speech, then utter your thoughts asthough they were a Gibraltar ofunimpeachable truth. Deliver them withthe iron hand and confidence of aCromwell. Assert them with the fireo f authority. Pronounce them as

an ultimatum. If you cannot speak withconviction, be silent.

What force did that young ministerhave who, fearing to be too dogmatic,thus exhorted his hearers: "My friends—as I assume that you are—it appears tobe my duty to tell you that if you do notrepent, so to speak, forsake your sins, asit were, and turn to righteousness, if Imay so express it, you will be lost, in ameasure"?

Effective speech must reflect the era.This is not a rose water age, and a tepid,half-hearted speech will not win. This isthe century of trip hammers, of overlandexpresses that dash under cities andthrough mountain tunnels, and you mustinstill this spirit into your speech if you

would move a popular audience. From afront seat listen to a first-class companypresent a modern Broadway drama—nota comedy, but a gripping, thrillingdrama. Do not become absorbed in thestory; reserve all your attention for thetechnique and the force of the acting.There is a kick and a crash as well as aninfinitely subtle intensity in the big,climax-speeches that suggest this lesson:the same well-calculated, restrained,delicately shaded force wouldsimply rivet your ideas in the minds ofyour audience. An air-gun will rattlebird-shot against a window pane—ittakes a rifle to wing a bullet throughplate glass and the oaken walls beyond.

When to Use Force

An audience is unlike the kingdom ofheaven—the violent do not always takeit by force. There are times when beautyand serenity should be the only bells inyour chime. Force is only one of thegreat extremes of contrast—use neither itnor quiet utterance to the exclusion ofother tones: be various, and in varietyfind even greater force than you couldattain by attempting its constant use. Ifyou are reading an essay on the beautiesof the dawn, talking about the daintybloom of a honey-suckle, or explainingthe mechanism of a gas engine, avigorous style of delivery is entirely outof place. But when you are appealing towills and consciences for immediateaction, forceful delivery wins. In such

cases, consider the minds of youraudience as so many safes that have beenlocked and the keys lost. Do not try tofigure out the combinations. Pour a littlenitro glycerine into the cracks and lightthe fuse. As these lines are being writtena contractor down the street is clearingaway the rocks with dynamite to lay thefoundations for a great building. Whenyou want to get action, do not fear to usedynamite.

The final argument for theeffectiveness of force in public speech isthe fact that everything must be enlargedfor the purposes of the platform—that iswhy so few speeches read well in thereports on the morning after: statementsappear crude and exaggerated because

they are unaccompanied by the forcefuldelivery of a glowing speaker before anaudience heated to attentive enthusiasm.So in preparing your speech you mustnot err on the side of mild statement—your audience will inevitably tone downyour words in the cold grey ofafterthought. When Phidias wascriticised for the rough, bold outlines ofa figure he had submitted in competition,he smiled and asked that his statue andthe one wrought by his rival should beset upon the column for which thesculpture was destined. When this wasdone all the exaggerations and crudities,toned by distances, melted into exquisitegrace of line and form. Each speech mustbe a special study in suitability and

proportion.Omit the thunder of delivery, if you

will, but like Wendell Phillips put"silent lightning" into your speech. Makeyour thoughts breathe and your wordsburn. Birrell said: "Emerson writes likean electrical cat emitting sparks andshocks in every sentence." Go thou andspeak likewise. Get the "big stick" intoyour delivery—be forceful.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Illustrate, by repeating a sentence

from memory, what is meant byemploying force in speaking.

2. Which in your opinion is the mostimportant of the technical principles of

speaking that you have studied so far?Why?

3. What is the effect of too much forcein a speech? Too little?

4. Note some uninterestingconversation or ineffective speech, andtell why it failed.

5. Suggest how it might be improved.6. Why do speeches have to be spoken

with more force than do conversations?7. Read aloud the selection on page

84, using the technical principlesoutlined in chapters III to VIII, butneglect to put any force behind theinterpretation. What is the result?

8. Reread several times, doing yourbest to achieve force.

9. Which parts of the selection on

page 84 require the most force?10. Write a five-minute speech not

only discussing the errors of those whoexaggerate and those who minimize theuse of force, but by imitation show theirweaknesses. Do not burlesque, butclosely imitate.

11. Give a list of ten themes forpublic addresses, saying which seemmost likely to require the frequent use offorce in delivery.

12. In your own opinion, do speakersusually err from the use of too much ortoo little force?

13. Define (a) bombast; (b) bathos;(c) sentimentality; (d) squeamish.

14. Say how the foregoing wordsdescribe weaknesses in public speech.

15. Recast in twentieth-centuryEnglish "Hamlet's Directions to thePlayers," page 88.

16. Memorize the following extractsfrom Wendell Phillips' speeches, anddeliver them with the of WendellPhillips' "silent lightning" delivery.

We are for a revolution! We say inbehalf of these hunted lyings, whomGod created, and who law-abidingWebster and Winthrop have swornshall not find shelter inMassachusetts,—we say that theymay make their little motions, andpass their little laws in Washington,but that Faneuil Hall repeals themin the name of humanity and the old

Bay State! My advice to workingmen is this:If you want power in this country; ifyou want to make yourselves felt; ifyou do not want your children towait long years before they havethe bread on the table they ought tohave, the leisure in their lives theyought to have, the opportunities inlife they ought to have; if you don'twant to wait yourselves,—write onyour banner, so that every politicaltrimmer can read it, so that everypolitician, no matter how short-sighted he may be, can read it, "WENEVER FORGET! If you launch thearrow of sarcasm at labor, WE

NEVER FORGET! If there is adivision in Congress, and youthrow your vote in the wrongscale, WE NEVER FORGET! Youmay go down on your knees, andsay, 'I am sorry I did the act'—butwe will say 'IT WILL AVAIL YOUIN HEAVEN TO BE SORRY, BUTON THIS SIDE OF THE GRAVE,NEVER!'" So that a man in takingup the labor question will know heis dealing with a hair-trigger pistol,and will say, "I am to be true tojustice and to man; otherwise I am adead duck." In Russia there is no press, nodebate, no explanation of what

government does, no remonstranceallowed, no agitation of publicissues. Dead silence, like thatwhich reigns at the summit of MontBlanc, freezes the whole empire,long ago described as "a despotismtempered by assassination."Meanwhile, such despotism hasunsettled the brains of the rulingfamily, as unbridled powerdoubtless made some of the twelveCæsars insane; a madman, sportingwith the lives and comfort of ahundred millions of men. The younggirl whispers in her mother's ear,under a ceiled roof, her pity for abrother knouted and draggedhalf dead into exile for his

opinions. The next week she isstripped naked and flogged to deathin the public square. No inquiry, noexplanation, no trial, no protest,one dead uniform silence, the lawof the tyrant. Where is there groundfor any hope of peaceful change?No, no! in such a land dynamite andthe dagger are the necessary andproper substitutes for Faneuil Hall.Anything that will make themadman quake in his bedchamber,and rouse his victims into recklessand desperate resistance. This isthe only view an American, thechild of 1620 and 1776, can take ofNihilism. Any other unsettles andperplexes the ethics of our

civilization.Born within sight of Bunker Hill—son of Harvard, whose first pledgewas "Truth," citizen of a republicbased on the claim that nogovernment is rightful unlessresting on the consent of the people,and which assumes to lead inasserting the rights of humanity—Iat least can say nothing else andnothing less—no not if every tile onCambridge roofs were a devilhooting my words!

For practise on forceful selections,use "The Irrepressible Conflict," page67; "Abraham Lincoln," page 76, "PassProsperity Around," page 470; "A Plea

for Cuba," page 50.

10ChapterFEELING ANDENTHUSIASM

Enthusiasm is that secret andharmonious spirit that hovers overthe production of genius.

—Isaac Disraeli, LiteraryCharacter.

If you are addressing a body of

scientists on such a subject as the veinsin a butterfly's wings, or on roadstructure, naturally your theme will notarouse much feeling in either you or youraudience. These are purely mentalsubjects. But if you want men to vote fora measure that will abolish child labor,or if you would inspire them to take uparms for freedom, you must strikestraight at their feelings. We lie on softbeds, sit near the radiator on a cold day,eat cherry pie, and devote our attentionto one of the opposite sex, not becausewe have reasoned out that it is the rightthing to do, but because it feels right. Noone but a dyspeptic chooses his dietfrom a chart. Our feelings dictate whatwe shall eat and generally how we shall

act. Man is a feeling animal, hence thepublic speaker's ability to arouse men toaction depends almost wholly on hisability to touch their emotions.

Negro mothers on the auction-blockseeing their children sold away fromthem into slavery have flamed out someof America's most stirring speeches.True, the mother did not have anyknowledge of the technique of speaking,but she had something greater than alltechnique, more effective than reason:feeling. The great speeches of the worldhave not been delivered on tariffreductions or post-office appropriations.The speeches that will live have beencharged with emotional force. Prosperityand peace are poor developers of

eloquence. When great wrongs are to berighted, when the public heart is flamingwith passion, that is the occasion formemorable speaking. Patrick Henrymade an immortal address, for in anepochal crisis he pleaded for liberty. Hehad roused himself to the point where hecould honestly and passionately exclaim,"Give me liberty or give me death." Hisfame would have been different had helived to-day and argued for the recall ofjudges.

The Power of EnthusiasmPolitical parties hire bands, and pay

for applause—they argue that, for vote-getting, to stir up enthusiasm is moreeffective than reasoning. How far theyare right depends on the hearers, but

there can be no doubt about thecontagious nature of enthusiasm. Awatch manufacturer in New York triedout two series of watch advertisements;one argued the superior construction,workmanship, durability, and guaranteeoffered with the watch; the other washeaded, "A Watch to be Proud of," anddwelt upon the pleasure and pride ofownership. The latter series sold twiceas many as the former. A salesman for alocomotive works informed the writerthat in selling railroad engines emotionalappeal was stronger than an argumentbased on mechanical excellence.

Illustrations without number might becited to show that in all our actions weare emotional beings. The speaker who

would speak efficiently must develop thepower to arouse feeling.

Webster, great debater that he was,knew that the real secret of a speaker'spower was an emotional one. Heeloquently says of eloquence:

"Affected passion, intenseexpression, the pomp ofdeclamation, all may aspire after it;they cannot reach it. It comes, if itcome at all, like the outbreak of afountain from the earth, or thebursting forth of volcanic fires,with spontaneous, original, nativeforce."The graces taught in the schools,the costly ornaments and studied

contrivances of speech, shock anddisgust men, when their own lives,and the fate of their wives, theirchildren, and their country hang onthe decision of the hour. Thenwords have lost their power,rhetoric is in vain, and all elaborateoratory contemptible. Even geniusitself then feels rebuked andsubdued, as in the presence ofhigher qualities. Then patriotism iseloquent, then self-devotion iseloquent. The clear conceptionoutrunning the deductions of logic,the high purpose, the firm resolve,the dauntless spirit, speaking on thetongue, beaming from the eye,informing every feature, and urging

the whole man onward, rightonward to his subject—this, this iseloquence; or rather, it is somethinggreater and higher than alleloquence; it is action, noble,sublime, godlike action."

When traveling through the Northwestsome time ago, one of the presentwriters strolled up a village street afterdinner and noticed a crowd listening to a"faker" speaking on a corner from agoods-box. Remembering Emerson'sadvice about learning something fromevery man we meet, the observerstopped to listen to this speaker'sappeal. He was selling a hair tonic,which he claimed to have discovered in

Arizona. He removed his hat to showwhat this remedy had done for him,washed his face in it to demonstrate thatit was as harmless as water, andenlarged on its merits in such anenthusiastic manner that the half-dollarspoured in on him in a silver flood. Whenhe had supplied the audience with hairtonic, he asked why a greater proportionof men than women were bald. No oneknew. He explained that it was becausewomen wore thinner-soled shoes, and somade a good electrical connection withmother earth, while men wore thick, dry-soled shoes that did not transmit theearth's electricity to the body. Men'shair, not having a proper amount ofelectrical food, died and fell out. Of

course he had a remedy—a little copperplate that should be nailed on the bottomof the shoe. He pictured in enthusiasticand vivid terms the desirability ofescaping baldness—and paid tributes tohis copper plates. Strange as it mayseem when the story is told in cold print,the speaker's enthusiasm had swept hisaudience with him, and they crushedaround his stand with outstretched"quarters" in their anxiety to be thepossessors of these magical plates!

Emerson's suggestion had been welltaken—the observer had seen again thewonderful, persuasive power ofenthusiasm!

Enthusiasm sent millions crusadinginto the Holy Land to redeem it from the

Saracens. Enthusiasm plunged Europeinto a thirty years' war over religion.Enthusiasm sent three small ships plyingthe unknown sea to the shores of a newworld. When Napoleon's army wereworn out and discouraged in their ascentof the Alps, the Little Corporal stoppedthem and ordered the bands to play theMarseillaise. Under its soul-stirringstrains there were no Alps.

Listen! Emerson said: "Nothing greatwas ever achieved without enthusiasm."Carlyle declared that "Every greatmovement in the annals of history hasbeen the triumph of enthusiasm." It is ascontagious as measles. Eloquence is halfinspiration. Sweep your audience withyou in a pulsation of enthusiasm. Let

yourself go. "A man," said OliverCromwell, "never rises so high as whenhe knows not whither he is going."

How are We to Acquire and DevelopEnthusiasm?

It is not to be slipped on like asmoking jacket. A book cannot furnishyou with it. It is a growth—an effect. Butan effect of what? Let us see.

Emerson wrote: "A painter told methat nobody could draw a tree without insome sort becoming a tree; or draw achild by studying the outlines of his formmerely,—but, by watching for a time hismotion and plays, the painter enters hisnature, and then can draw him at will inevery attitude. So Roos 'entered into theinmost nature of his sheep.' I knew a

draughtsman employed in a publicsurvey, who found that he could notsketch the rocks until their geologicalstructure was first explained to him."

When Sarah Bernhardt plays adifficult role she frequently will speak tono one from four o'clock in the afternoonuntil after the performance. From thehour of four she lives her character.Booth, it is reported, would not permitanyone to speak to him between the actsof his Shakesperean rôles, for he wasMacbeth then—not Booth. Dante, exiledfrom his beloved Florence, condemnedto death, lived in caves, half starved;then Dante wrote out his heart in "TheDivine Comedy." Bunyan entered intothe spirit of his "Pilgrim's Progress" so

thoroughly that he fell down on the floorof Bedford jail and wept for joy. Turner,who lived in a garret, arose beforedaybreak and walked over the hills ninemiles to see the sun rise on the ocean,that he might catch the spirit of itswonderful beauty. Wendell Phillips'sentences were full of "silent lightning"because he bore in his heart the sorrowof five million slaves.

There is only one way to get feelinginto your speaking—and whatever elseyou forget, forget not this: You mustactually ENTER INTO the character youimpersonate, the cause you advocate, thecase you argue—enter into it so deeplythat it clothes you, enthralls you,possesses you wholly. Then you are, in

the true meaning of the word,i n sympathy with your subject, for itsfeeling is your feeling, you "feel with" it,and therefore your enthusiasm is bothgenuine and contagious. The Carpenterwho spoke as "never man spake" utteredwords born out of a passion of love forhumanity—he had entered into humanity,and thus became Man.

But we must not look upon theforegoing words as a facile prescriptionfor decocting a feeling which may thenbe ladled out to a complacent audiencein quantities to suit the need of themoment. Genuine feeling in a speech isbone and blood of the speech itself andnot something that may be added to it orsubstracted at will. In the ideal address

theme, speaker and audience becomeone, fused by the emotion and thought ofthe hour.

The Need of Sympathy for HumanityIt is impossible to lay too much stress

on the necessity for the speaker's havinga broad and deep tenderness for humannature. One of Victor Hugo'sbiographers attributes his power as anorator and writer to his wide sympathiesand profound religious feelings.Recently we heard the editorof Collier's Weekly speak on short-storywriting, and he so often emphasized thenecessity for this broad love forhumanity, this truly religious feeling, thathe apologized twice for delivering asermon. Few if any of the immortal

speeches were ever delivered for aselfish or a narrow cause—they wereborn out of a passionate desire to helphumanity; instances, Paul's address to theAthenians on Mars Hill, Lincoln'sGettysburg speech, The Sermon on theMount, Henry's address before theVirginia Convention of Delegates.

The seal and sign of greatness is adesire to serve others. Self-preservationis the first law of life, but self-abnegation is the first law of greatness—and of art. Selfishness is the fundamentalcause of all sin, it is the thing that allgreat religions, all worthy philosophies,have struck at. Out of a heart of realsympathy and love come the speechesthat move humanity.

Former United States Senator AlbertJ. Beveridge in an introduction to one ofthe volumes of "Modern Eloquence,"says: "The profoundest feeling amongthe masses, the most influential elementin their character, is the religiouselement. It is as instinctive andelemental as the law of self-preservation. It informs the wholeintellect and personality of the people.And he who would greatly influence thepeople by uttering their unformedthoughts must have this great andunanalyzable bond of sympathy withthem."

When the men of Ulster armedthemselves to oppose the passage of theHome Rule Act, one of the present

writers assigned to a hundred men"Home Rule" as the topic for an addressto be prepared by each. Among thisgroup were some brilliant speakers,several of them experienced lawyers andpolitical campaigners. Some of theiraddresses showed a remarkableknowledge and grasp of the subject;others were clothed in the mostattractive phrases. But a clerk, without agreat deal of education and experience,arose and told how he spent his boyhooddays in Ulster, how his mother whileholding him on her lap had pictured tohim Ulster's deeds of valor. He spoke ofa picture in his uncle's home that showedthe men of Ulster conquering a tyrant andmarching on to victory. His voice

quivered, and with a hand pointingupward he declared that if the men ofUlster went to war they would not goalone—a great God would go with them.

The speech thrilled and electrified theaudience. It thrills yet as we recall it.The high-sounding phrases, the historicalknowledge, the philosophical treatment,of the other speakers largely failed toarouse any deep interest, while thegenuine conviction and feeling of themodest clerk, speaking on a subject thatlay deep in his heart, not only electrifiedhis audience but won their personalsympathy for the cause he advocated.

As Webster said, it is of no use to tryto pretend to sympathy or feelings. Itcannot be done successfully. "Nature is

forever putting a premium on reality."What is false is soon detected as such.The thoughts and feelings that create andmould the speech in the study must beborn again when the speech is deliveredfrom the platform. Do not let your wordssay one thing, and your voice andattitude another. There is no room herefor half-hearted, nonchalant methods ofdelivery. Sincerity is the very soul ofeloquence. Carlyle was right: "NoMirabeau, Napoleon, Burns, Cromwell,no man adequate to do anything, but isfirst of all in right earnest about it; whatI call a sincere man. I should saysincerity, a great, deep, genuinesincerity, is the first characteristic of allmen in any way heroic. Not the sincerity

that calls itself sincere; ah no, that is avery poor matter indeed; a shallowbraggart, conscious sincerity, oftenestself-conceit mainly. The great man'ssincerity is of the kind he cannot speakof—is not conscious of."

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

It is one thing to convince the would-

be speaker that he ought to put feelinginto his speeches; often it is quiteanother thing for him to do it. Theaverage speaker is afraid to let himselfgo, and continually suppresses hisemotions. When you put enough feelinginto your speeches they will soundoverdone to you, unless you are an

experienced speaker. They will soundtoo strong, if you are not used toenlarging for platform or stage, for thedelineation of the emotions must beenlarged for public delivery.

1. Study the following speech, goingback in your imagination to the time andcircumstances that brought it forth. Makeit not a memorized historical document,but feel the emotions that gave it birth.The speech is only an effect; live over inyour own heart the causes that producedit and try to deliver it at white heat. It isnot possible for you to put too much realfeeling into it, though of course it wouldbe quite easy to rant and fill it with falseemotion. This speech, according toThomas Jefferson, started the ball of the

Revolution rolling. Men were thenwilling to go out and die for liberty.

PATRICK HENRY'S SPEECHBEFORE THE VIRGINIA

CONVENTION OFDELEGATES

Mr. President, it is natural to manto indulge in the illusions of hope.We are apt to shut our eyes againsta painful truth, and listen to thesong of that siren, till shetransforms us to beasts. Is this thepart of wise men, engaged in agreat and arduous struggle forliberty? Are we disposed to be ofthe number of those who, havingeyes, see not, and having ears, hear

not, the things which so nearlyconcern our temporal salvation?For my part, whatever anguish ofspirit it may cost, I am willing toknow the whole truth; to know theworst, and to provide for it.I have but one lamp by which myfeet are guided; and that is the lampof experience. I know of no way ofjudging of the future but by the past.And judging by the past, I wish toknow what there has been in theconduct of the British Ministry forthe last ten years to justify thosehopes with which gentlemen havebeen pleased to solace themselvesand the House? Is it that insidioussmile with which our petition has

been lately received? Trust it not,sir; it will prove a snare to yourfeet. Suffer not yourselves to be"betrayed with a kiss"! Askyourselves, how this graciousreception of our petition comportswith those warlike preparationswhich cover our waters and darkenour land. Are fleets and armiesnecessary to a work of love andreconciliation? Have we shownourselves so unwilling to bereconciled, that force must becalled in to win back our love? Letus not deceive ourselves, sir. Theseare the implements of war andsubjugation, the last "arguments" towhich kings resort.

I ask gentlemen, sir, what meansthis martial array, if its purpose benot to force us to submission? Cangentlemen assign any other possiblemotive for it? Has Great Britainany enemy in this quarter of theworld, to call for all thisaccumulation of navies and armies?No, sir, she has none. They aremeant for us; they can be meant forno other. They are sent over to bindand to rivet upon us those chainswhich the British Ministry havebeen so long forging. And whathave we to oppose to them? Shallwe try argument? Sir, we have beentrying that for the last ten years.Have we anything new to offer

upon the subject? Nothing. We haveheld the subject up in every light ofwhich it is capable; but it has beenall in vain. Shall we resort toentreaty and humble supplication?What terms shall we find whichhave not been already exhausted?Let us not, I beseech you, sir,deceive ourselves longer. Sir, wehave done everything that could bedone, to avert the storm which isnow coming on. We havepetitioned, we have remonstrated,we have supplicated, we haveprostrated ourselves before thethrone, and have implored itsinterposition to arrest the tyrannicalhands of the Ministry and

Parliament. Our petitions have beenslighted; our remonstrances haveproduced additional violence andinsult; our supplications have beendisregarded, and we have beenspurned with contempt from thefoot of the throne. In vain, afterthese things, may we indulge in thefond hope of peace andreconciliation. There is no longerany room for hope. If we wish to befree, if we mean to preserveinviolate those inestimableprivileges for which we have beenso long contending; if we mean notbasely to abandon the noblestruggle in which we have been solong engaged, and which we have

pledged ourselves never toabandon until the glorious object ofour contest shall be obtained, wemust fight; I repeat it, sir, we mustfight! An appeal to arms, and to theGod of Hosts, is all that is left us!They tell us, sir, that we are weak—"unable to cope with soformidable an adversary"! Butwhen shall we be stronger? Will itbe the next week, or the next year?Will it be when we are totallydisarmed, and when a British guardshall be stationed in every house?Shall we gather strength byirresolution and inaction? Shall weacquire the means of effectualresistance, by lying supinely on our

backs, and hugging the delusivephantom of hope, until our enemieshave bound us hand and foot? Sir,we are not weak, if we make aproper use of those means whichthe God of Nature hath placed inour power. Three millions ofpeople, armed in the holy cause ofLiberty, and in such a country asthat which we possess, areinvincible by any force which ourenemy can send against us. Besides,sir, we shall not fight our battlesalone. There is a just Power whopresides over the destinies ofnations, and who will raise upfriends to fight our battles for us.The battle, sir, is not to the strong

alone; it is to the vigilant, theactive, the brave. Besides, sir, wehave no election. If we were baseenough to desire it, it is now toolate to retire from the contest. Thereis no retreat, but in submission andslavery. Our chains are forged.Their clanking may be heard on theplains of Boston. The war isinevitable; and let it come! I repeatit, sir, let it come! It is in vain, sir,to extenuate the matter. Gentlemenmay cry "Peace, peace!" but thereis no peace! The war is actuallybegun! The next gale that sweepsfrom the north will bring to our earsthe clash of resounding arms! Ourbrethren are already in the field!

Why stand we here idle? What is itthat gentlemen wish? What wouldthey have? Is life so dear, or peaceso sweet, as to be purchased at theprice of chains and slavery? Forbidit, Almighty Powers!—I know notwhat course others may take; but asfor me, give me liberty or give medeath!

2. Live over in your imagination allthe solemnity and sorrow that Lincolnfelt at the Gettysburg cemetery. Thefeeling in this speech is very deep, but itis quieter and more subdued than thepreceding one. The purpose ofHenry's address was to get action;Lincoln's speech was meant only to

dedicate the last resting place of thosewho had acted. Read it over and over(see page 50) until it burns in your soul.Then commit it and repeat it foremotional expression.

3. Beecher's speech on Lincoln, page76; Thurston's speech on "A Plea forCuba," page 50; and the followingselection, are recommended for practisein developing feeling in delivery.

A living force that brings to itselfall the resources of imagination, allthe inspirations of feeling, all thatis influential in body, in voice, ineye, in gesture, in posture, in thewhole animated man, is in strictanalogy with the divine thought and

the divine arrangement; and there isno misconstruction more utterlyuntrue and fatal than this: thatoratory is an artificial thing, whichdeals with baubles and trifles, forthe sake of making bubbles ofpleasure for transient effect onmercurial audiences. So far fromthat, it is the consecration of thewhole man to the noblest purposesto which one can address himself—the education and inspiration of hisfellow men by all that there is inlearning, by all that there is inthought, by all that there is infeeling, by all that there is in all ofthem, sent home through thechannels of taste and of beauty.—

Henry Ward Beecher.

4. What in your opinion are therelative values of thought and feeling ina speech?

5. Could we dispense with either?6. What kinds of selections or

occasions require much feeling andenthusiasm? Which require little?

7. Invent a list of ten subjects forspeeches, saying which would give mostroom for pure thought and which forfeeling.

8. Prepare and deliver a ten-minutespeech denouncing the (imaginary)unfeeling plea of an attorney; he may beeither the counsel for the defense or theprosecuting attorney, and the accused

may be assumed to be either guilty orinnocent, at your option.

9. Is feeling more important than thetechnical principles expounded inchapters III to VII? Why?

10. Analyze the secret of someeffective speech or speaker. To what isthe success due?

11. Give an example from your ownobservation of the effect of feeling andenthusiasm on listeners.

12. Memorize Carlyle's andEmerson's remarks on enthusiasm.

13. Deliver Patrick Henry's address,page 110, and Thurston's speech, page50, without show of feeling orenthusiasm. What is the result?

14. Repeat, with all the feeling these

selections demand. What is the result?15. What steps do you intend to take

to develop the power of enthusiasm andfeeling in speaking?

16. Write and deliver a five-minutespeech ridiculing a speaker who usesbombast, pomposity and over-enthusiasm. Imitate him.

11ChapterFLUENCYTHROUGHPREPARATION

Animis opibusque parati—Readyin mind and resources.

—Motto of South Carolina.In omnibus negotiis prius quamaggrediare, adhibenda estpræparatio diligens—In all matters

before beginning a diligentpreparation should be made.

—Cicero, De Officiis.

Take your dictionary and look up thewords that contain the Latin stem flu—the results will be suggestive.

At first blush it would seem thatfluency consists in a ready, easy use ofwords. Not so—the flowing quality ofspeech is much more, for it is acomposite effect, with each of its priorconditions deserving of careful notice.

The Sources of FluencySpeaking broadly, fluency is almost

entirely a matter of preparation.Certainly, native gifts figure largelyhere, as in every art, but even natural

facility is dependent on the very samelaws of preparation that hold good forthe man of supposedly small nativeendowment. Let this encourage you if,like Moses, you are prone to complainthat you are not a ready speaker.

Have you ever stopped to analyze thatexpression, "a ready speaker?"Readiness, in its prime sense, ispreparedness, and they are most readywho are best prepared. Quick firingdepends more on the alert finger than onthe hair trigger. Your fluency will be indirect ratio to two important conditions:your knowledge of what you are going tosay, and your being accustomed totelling what you know to an audience.This gives us the second great element of

fluency—to preparation must be addedthe ease that arises from practise; ofwhich more presently.

Knowledge is EssentialMr. Bryan is a most fluent speaker

when he speaks on political problems,tendencies of the time, and questions ofmorals. It is to be supposed, however,that he would not be so fluent inspeaking on the bird life of the FloridaEverglades. Mr. John Burroughs mightbe at his best on this last subject, yetentirely lost in talking aboutinternational law. Do not expect to speakfluently on a subject that you know littleor nothing about. Ctesiphon boasted thathe could speak all day (a sin in itself) onany subject that an audience would

suggest. He was banished by theSpartans.

But preparation goes beyond thegetting of the facts in the case you are topresent: it includes also the ability tothink and arrange your thoughts, a fulland precise vocabulary, an easy mannerof speech and breathing, absence of self-consciousness, and the several othercharacteristics of efficient delivery thathave deserved special attention in otherparts of this book rather than in thischapter.

Preparation may be either general orspecific; usually it should be both. Alife-time of reading, ofcompanionship with stirring thoughts, ofwrestling with the problems of life—this

constitutes a general preparation ofinestimable worth. Out of a well-storedmind, and—richer still—a broadexperience, and—best of all—a warmlysympathetic heart, the speaker will haveto draw much material thatnoimmediate study could provide.General preparation consists of all that aman has put into himself, all that heredityand environment have instilled into him,and—that other rich source ofpreparedness for speech—the friendshipof wise companions. When Schillerreturned home after a visit with Goethe afriend remarked: "I am amazed by theprogress Schiller can make within asingle fortnight." It was the progressiveinfluence of a new friendship. Proper

friendships form one of the best meansfor the formation of ideas and ideals, forthey enable one to practise in givingexpression to thought. The speaker whowould speak fluently before an audienceshould learn to speak fluently andentertainingly with a friend. Clarify yourideas by putting them in words; thetalker gains as much from hisconversation as the listener. Yousometimes begin to converse on asubject thinking you have very little tosay, but one idea gives birth to another,and you are surprised to learn that themore you give the more you have togive. This give-and-take of friendlyconversation develops mentality, andfluency in expression. Longfellow said:

"A single conversation across the tablewith a wise man is better than ten years'study of books," and Holmeswhimsically yet none the less truthfullydeclared that half the time he talked tofind out what he thought. But that methodmust not be applied on the platform!

After all this enrichment of life bystorage, must come the specialpreparation for the particular speech.This is of so definite a sort that itwarrants separate chapter-treatmentlater.

PractiseBut preparation must also be of

another sort than the gathering,organizing, and shaping of materials—itmust include practise, which, like

mental preparation, must be both generaland special.

Do not feel surprised or discouragedif practise on the principles of deliveryherein laid down seems to retard yourfluency. For a time, this will beinevitable. While you are working forproper inflection, for instance, inflectionwill be demanding your first thoughts,and the flow of your speech, for the timebeing, will be secondary. This warning,however, is strictly for the closet, foryour practise at home. Do not carry anythoughts of inflection with you to theplatform. There you must think only ofyour subject. There is an absolutetelepathy between the audience and thespeaker. If your thought goes to your

gesture, their thought will too. If yourinterest goes to the quality of your voice,they will be regarding that instead ofwhat your voice is uttering.

You have doubtless been adjured to"forget everything but your subject."This advice says either too much or toolittle. The truth is that while on theplatform you must not forget a greatmany things that are not in your subject,but you must not think of them. Yourattention must consciously go only toyour message, but subconsciously youwill be attending to the points oftechnique which have become more orless habitual by practise.

A nice balance between these twokinds of attention is important.

You can no more escape this law thanyou can live without air: Your platformgestures, your voice, your inflection,will all be just as good as your habit ofgesture, voice, and inflection makesthem—no better. Even the thought ofwhether you are speaking fluently or notwill have the effect of marring your flowof speech.

Return to the opening chapter, on self-confidence, and again lay its precepts toheart. Learn by rules to speak withoutthinking of rules. It is not—or ought notto be—necessary for you to stop to thinkhow to say the alphabet correctly, as amatter of fact it is slightly more difficultfor you to repeat Z, Y, X than it is to sayX, Y, Z—habit has established the

order. Just so you must master the lawsof efficiency in speaking until it is asecond nature for you to speak correctlyrather than otherwise. A beginner at thepiano has a great deal of trouble with themechanics of playing, but as time goeson his fingers become trained and almostinstinctively wander over the keyscorrectly. As an inexperienced speakeryou will find a great deal of difficulty atfirst in putting principles into practise,for you will be scared, like the youngswimmer, and make some crude strokes,but if you persevere you will "win out."

Thus, to sum up, the vocabulary youhave enlarged by study,[4] the ease inspeaking you have developedby practise, the economy of your well-

studied emphasis all willsubconsciously come to your aid on theplatform. Then the habits you haveformed will be earning you a splendiddividend. The fluency of your speechwill be at the speed of flow yourpractise has made habitual.

But this means work. What good habitdoes not? No philosopher's stone thatwill act as a substitute for laboriouspractise has ever been found. If it were,it would be thrown away, because itwould kill our greatest joy—the delightof acquisition. If public-speaking meansto you a fuller life, you will know nogreater happiness than a well-spokenspeech. The time you have spent ingathering ideas and in private practise of

speaking you will find amply rewarded.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES 1. What advantages has the fluent

speaker over the hesitating talker?2. What influences, within and without

the man himself, work against fluency?3. Select from the daily paper some

topic for an address and make a three-minute address on it. Do your wordscome freely and your sentences flow outrhythmically? Practise on the sametopic until they do.

4. Select some subject with which youare familiar and test your fluency byspeaking extemporaneously.

5. Take one of the sentiments given

below and, following the advice givenon pages 118-119, construct a shortspeech beginning with the last word inthe sentence.

Machinery has created a neweconomic world.The Socialist Party is a strenuousworker for peace.He was a crushed and broken manwhen he left prison.War must ultimately give way toworld-wide arbitration.The labor unions demand a moreequal distribution of the wealth thatlabor creates.

6. Put the sentiments of Mr. Bryan's"Prince of Peace," on page 448, into

your own words. Honestly criticise yourown effort.

7. Take any of the followingquotations and make a five-minutespeech on it without pausing to prepare.The first efforts may be very lame, but ifyou want speed on a typewriter, a recordfor a hundred-yard dash, or facility inspeaking, you mustpractise, practise,PRACTISE.

There lives more faith in honestdoubt,Believe me, than in half the creeds.

—Tennyson, In Memoriam.Howe'er it be, it seems to me,'Tis only noble to be good.Kind hearts are more than coronets,

And simple faith than Normanblood.

—Tennyson, Lady Clara Vere deVere.

'Tis distance lends enchantment tothe viewAnd robes the mountain in its azurehue.

—Campbell, Pleasures of Hope.His best companions, innocenceand health,And his best riches, ignorance ofwealth.

—Goldsmith, The DesertedVillage.

Beware of desperate steps! Thedarkest day,Live till tomorrow, will have

passed away.—Cowper, Needless Alarm.

My country is the world, and myreligion is to do good.

—Paine, Rights of Man.Trade it may help, society extend,But lures the pirate, and corruptsthe friend:It raises armies in a nation's aid,But bribes a senate, and the land'sbetray'd.

—Pope, Moral Essays.[5]

O God, that men should put anenemy in their mouths to stealawaytheir brains!

—Shakespeare, Othello.It matters not how strait the gate,How charged with punishment the

scroll,I am the master of my fate,I am the captain of my soul.

—Henley, Invictus.The world is so full of a number ofthings,I am sure we should all be happy askings.

—Stevenson, A Child's Garden ofVerses.

If your morals are dreary, dependupon it they are wrong.

—Stevenson, Essays.Every advantage has its tax. I learnto be content.

—Emerson, Essays.

8. Make a two-minute speech on any

of the following general subjects, butyou will find that your ideas will comemore readily if you narrow your subjectby taking some specific phase of it. Forinstance, instead of trying to speak on"Law" in general, take the proposition,"The Poor Man Cannot Afford toProsecute;" or instead of dwelling on"Leisure," show how modern speed iscreating more leisure. In this way youmay expand this subject list indefinitely.

GENERAL THEMES

Law.Politics.Woman's Suffrage.Initiative and Referendum.

A Larger Navy.War.Peace.Foreign Immigration.The Liquor Traffic.Labor Unions.Strikes.Socialism.Single Tax.Tariff.Honesty.Courage.Hope.Love.Mercy.Kindness.Justice.Progress.

Machinery.Invention.Wealth.Poverty.Agriculture.Science.Surgery.Haste.Leisure.Happiness.Health.Business.America.The Far East.Mobs.Colleges.Sports.Matrimony.

Divorce.Child Labor.Education.Books.The Theater.Literature.Electricity.Achievement.Failure.Public Speaking.Ideals.Conversation.The Most Dramatic Moment of MyLife.My Happiest Days.Things Worth While.What I Hope to Achieve.My Greatest Desire.

What I Would Do with a MillionDollars.Is Mankind Progressing?Our Greatest Need.

12ChapterTHE VOICE

Oh, there is something in that voicethat reachesThe innermost recesses of myspirit!

—Longfellow, Christus.

The dramatic critic of TheLondon Times once declared that actingis nine-tenths voice work. Leaving the

message aside, the same may justly besaid of public speaking. A rich,correctly-used voice is the greatestphysical factor of persuasiveness andpower, often over-topping the effects ofreason.

But a good voice, well handled, is notonly an effective possession for theprofessional speaker, it is a mark ofpersonal culture as well, and even adistinct commercial asset. Gladstone,himself the possessor of a deep, musicalvoice, has said: "Ninety men in everyhundred in the crowded professions willprobably never rise above mediocritybecause the training of the voice isentirely neglected and considered of noimportance." These are words worth

pondering.There are three fundamental requisites

for a good voice:1. EaseSignor Bonci of the Metropolitan

Opera Company says that the secret ofgood voice is relaxation; and this is true,for relaxation is the basis of ease. Theair waves that produce voice result in adifferent kind of tone whenstriking against relaxed muscles thanwhen striking constricted muscles. Trythis for yourself. Contract the muscles ofyour face and throat as you do in hate,and flame out "I hate you!" Now relax asyou do when thinking gentle, tenderthoughts, and say, "I love you." Howdifferent the voice sounds.

In practising voice exercises, and inspeaking, never force your tones. Easemust be your watchword. The voice is adelicate instrument, and you must nothandle it with hammer and tongs.Don't make your voice go—let it go.Don't work. Let the yoke of speech beeasy and its burden light.

Your throat should be free from strainduring speech, therefore it is necessaryto avoid muscular contraction. Thethroat must act as a sort of chimney orfunnel for the voice, hence any unnaturalconstriction will not only harm its tonesbut injure its health.

Nervousness and mental strain arecommon sources of mouth and throatconstriction, so make the battle for poise

and self-confidence for which wepleaded in the opening chapter.

B ut how can I relax? you ask. Bysimply willing to relax. Hold your armout straight from your shoulder. Now—withdraw all power and let it fall.Practise relaxation of the muscles of thethroat by letting your neck and head fallforward. Roll the upper part of yourbody around, with the waist line actingas a pivot. Let your head fall and rollaround as you shift the torso to differentpositions. Do not force your head around—simply relax your neck and let gravitypull it around as your body moves.

Again, let your head fall forward onyour breast; raise your head, letting yourjaw hang. Relax until your jaw feels

heavy, as though it were a weight hung toyour face. Remember, you must relax thejaw to obtain command of it. It must befree and flexible for the moulding oftone, and to let the tone pass outunobstructed.

The lips also must be made flexible,to aid in the moulding of clear andbeautiful tones. For flexibility of lipsrepeat the syllables,mo—me. Insaying mo, bring the lips up to resemblethe shape of the letter O. Inrepeating me draw them back as you doin a grin. Repeat this exercise rapidly,giving the lips as much exercise aspossible.

Try the following exercise in the samemanner:

Mo—E—O—E—OO—Ah.After this exercise has been mastered,

the following will also be foundexcellent for flexibility of lips:

Memorize these sounds indicated (notthe expressions) so that you can repeatthem rapidly.

A asin May. E as

in Met. U asin Use.

A " Ah. I " Ice. Oi " Oil.

A " At. I " It. u " Our.

O " No. O " No. O " Ooze.

A " All. OO " Foot. A " Ah.

E " Eat. OO " Ooze. E " Eat.

All the activity of breathing must becentered, not in the throat, but in the

middle of the body—you must breathefrom the diaphragm. Note the way youbreathe when lying flat on the back,undressed in bed. You will observe thatall the activity then centers around thediaphragm. This is the natural andcorrect method of breathing. By constantwatchfulness make this your habitualmanner, for it will enable you to relaxmore perfectly the muscles of the throat.

The next fundamental requisite forgood voice is

2. OpennessIf the muscles of the throat are

constricted, the tone passage partiallyclosed, and the mouth kept half-shut,how can you expect the tone to come outbright and clear, or even to come out at

all? Sound is a series of waves, and ifyou make a prison of your mouth,holding the jaws and lips rigidly, it willbe very difficult for the tone to squeezethrough, and even when it does escape itwill lack force and carrying power.Open your mouth wide, relax all theorgans of speech, and let the tone flowout easily.

Start to yawn, but instead of yawning,speak while your throat is open. Makethis open-feeling habitual when speaking—we saymake because it is a matter ofresolution and of practise, if your vocalorgans are healthy. Your tone passagesmay be partly closed by enlarged tonsils,adenoids, or enlarged turbinate bones ofthe nose. If so, a skilled physician

should be consulted.The nose is an important tone passage

and should be kept open and free forperfect tones. What we call "talkingthrough the nose" is not talking throughthe nose, as you can easily demonstrateby holding your nose as you talk. If youare bothered with nasal tones caused bygrowths or swellings in the nasalpassages, a slight, painless operationwill remove the obstruction. This isquite important, aside from voice, for thegeneral health will be much lowered ifthe lungs are continually starved for air.

The final fundamental requisite forgood voice is

3. ForwardnessA voice that is pitched back in the

throat is dark, sombre, and unattractive.The tone must be pitched forward, butdo not force it forward. You will recallthat our first principle wasease. Think the tone forward and out.Believe it is going forward, and allow itto flow easily. You can tell whether youare placing your tone forward or not byinhaling a deep breath andsinging ah with the mouth wide open,trying to feel the little delicate soundwaves strike the bony arch of the mouthjust above the front teeth. The sensationis so slight that you will probably not beable to detect it at once, but persevere inyour practise, always thinking the toneforward, and you will be rewarded byfeeling your voice strike the roof of your

mouth. A correct forward-placing of thetone will do away with the dark, throatytones that are so unpleasant, inefficient,and harmful to the throat.

Close the lips, humming ng, im, or an.Think the tone forward. Do you feel itstrike the lips?

Hold the palm of your hand in front ofyour face and say vigorously crash,dash, whirl, buzz. Can you feel theforward tones strike against your hand?Practise until you can. Remember, theonly way to get your voice forward isto put it forward.

How to Develop the Carrying Powerof the Voice

It is not necessary to speak loudly inorder to be heard at a distance. It is

necessary only to speak correctly. EdithWynne Matthison's voice will carry in awhisper throughout a large theater. Apaper rustling on the stage of a largeauditorium can be heard distinctly in thefurthermost seat in the gallery. If youwill only use your voice correctly, youwill not have much difficulty in beingheard. Of course it is always well toaddress your speech to your furthestauditors; if they get it, those nearer willhave no trouble, but aside from thisobvious suggestion, you must observethese laws of voice production:

Remember to apply the principles ofease, openness and forwardness—theyare the prime factors in enabling yourvoice to be heard at a distance.

Do not gaze at the floor as you talk.This habit not only gives the speaker anamateurish appearance but if the head ishung forward the voice will be directedtowards the ground instead of floatingout over the audience.

Voice is a series of air vibrations. Tostrengthen it two things are necessary:more air or breath, and more vibration.

Breath is the very basis of voice. As abullet with little powder behind it willnot have force and carrying power, sothe voice that has little breath behind itwill be weak. Not only will deepbreathing—breathing from thediaphragm—give the voice a bettersupport, but it will give it a strongerresonance by improving the general

health.Usually, ill health means a weak

voice, while abundant physical vitalityis shown through a strong, vibrant voice.Therefore anything that improves thegeneral vitality is an excellent voicestrengthener, provided you use the voiceproperly. Authorities differ on most ofthe rules of hygiene but on one point theyall agree: vitality and longevity areincreased by deep breathing. Practisethis until it becomes second nature.Whenever you are speaking, take in deepbreaths, but in such a manner that theinhalations will be silent.

Do not try to speak too long withoutrenewing your breath. Nature cares forthis pretty well unconsciously in

conversation, and she will do the samefor you in platform speaking if you donot interfere with her premonitions.

A certain very successful speakerdeveloped voice carrying power byrunning across country, practising hisspeeches as he went. The vigorousexercise forced him to take deep breaths,and developed lung power. A hard-fought basketball or tennis game is anefficient way of practising deepbreathing. When these methods are notconvenient, we recommend thefollowing:

Place your hands at your sides, on thewaist line.

By trying to encompass your waistwith your fingers and thumbs, force all

the air out of the lungs.Take a deep breath. Remember, all

the activity is to be centered inthe middle of the body; do not raise theshoulders. As the breath is taken yourhands will be forced out.

Repeat the exercise, placing yourhands on the small of the back andforcing them out as you inhale.

Many methods for deep breathinghave been given by various authorities.Get the air into your lungs—that is theimportant thing.

The body acts as a sounding board forthe voice just as the body of the violinacts as a sounding board for its tones.You can increase its vibrations bypractise.

Place your finger on your lip and humthe musical scale, thinking and placingthe voice forward on the lips. Do youfeel the lips vibrate? After a littlepractise they will vibrate, giving atickling sensation.

Repeat this exercise, throwing thehumming sound into the nose. Hold theupper part of the nose between the thumband forefinger. Can you feel the nosevibrate?

Placing the palm of your hand on topof your head, repeat this hummingexercise. Think the voice there as youhum in head tones. Can you feel thevibration there?

Now place the palm of your hand onthe back of your head, repeating the

foregoing process. Then try it on thechest. Always remember to think yourtone where you desire to feel thevibrations. The mere act of thinkingabout any portion of your body will tendto make it vibrate.

Repeat the following, after a deepinhalation, endeavoring to feel allportions of your body vibrate at the sametime. When you have attained this youwill find that it is a pleasant sensation.

What ho, my jovial mates. Comeon! We will frolic it like fairies,frisking in the merry moonshine.

Purity of VoiceThis quality is sometimes destroyed

by wasting the breath. Carefully control

the breath, using only as much as isnecessary for the production of tone.Utilize all that you give out. Failure todo this results in a breathy tone. Take inbreath like a prodigal; in speaking, giveit out like a miser.

Voice SuggestionsNever attempt to force your voice

when hoarse.Do not drink cold water when

speaking. The sudden shock to the heatedorgans of speech will injure the voice.

Avoid pitching your voice too high—it will make it raspy. This is a commonfault. When you find your voice in toohigh a range, lower it. Do not wait untilyou get to the platform to try this.Practise it in your daily conversation.

Repeat the alphabet, beginning A on thelowest scale possible and going up anote on each succeeding letter, for thedevelopment of range. A wide rangewill give you facility in makingnumerous changes of pitch.

Do not form the habit of listening toyour voice when speaking. You willneed your brain to think of what you aresaying—reserve your observation forprivate practise.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What are the prime requisites for

good voice?2. Tell why each one is necessary for

good voice production.

3. Give some exercises fordevelopment of these conditions.

4. Why is range of voice desirable?5. Tell how range of voice may be

cultivated.6. How much daily practise do you

consider necessary for the properdevelopment of your voice?

7. How can resonance and carryingpower be developed?

8. What are your voice faults?9. How are you trying to correct

them?

13ChapterVOICE CHARM

A cheerful temper joined withinnocence will make beautyattractive, knowledge delightful,and wit good-natured.

—Joseph Addison, The Tattler.

Poe said that "the tone of beauty issadness," but he was evidently thinkingfrom cause to effect, not contrariwise,

for sadness is rarely a producer ofbeauty—that is peculiarly the provinceof joy.

The exquisite beauty of a sunset is notexhilarating but tends to a sort ofmelancholy that is not far from delightThe haunting beauty of deep, quiet musicholds more than a tinge of sadness. Thelovely minor cadences of bird song attwilight are almost depressing.

The reason we are affected to sadnessby certain forms of placid beauty istwofold: movement is stimulating andjoy-producing, while quietude leads toreflection, and reflection in turn oftenbrings out the tone of regretful longingfor that which is past; secondly, quietbeauty produces a vague aspiration for

the relatively unattainable, yet does notstimulate to the tremendous effortnecessary to make the dimly desiredstate or object ours.

We must distinguish, for thesereasons, between the sadness of beautyand the joy of beauty. True, joy is adeep, inner thing and takes in much morethan the idea of bounding, sanguinespirits, for it includes a certain activecontentedness of heart. In this chapter,ho w e ve r the word will have itsoptimistic, exuberant connotation—weare thinking now of vivid, bright-eyed,laughing joy.

Musical, joyous tones constitute voicecharm, a subtle magnetism that isdelightfully contagious. Now it might

seem to the desultory reader that to takethe lancet and cut into this alluring voicequality would be to dissect a butterflywing and so destroy its charm. Yet howcan we induce an effect if we are notcertain as to the cause?

Nasal Resonance Produces the Bell-tones of the Voice

The tone passages of the nose must bekept entirely free for the bright tones ofvoice—and after our warning in thepreceding chapter you will not confusewhat is popularly and erroneously calleda "nasal" tone with the true nasal quality,which is so well illustrated by the voicework of trained French singers andspeakers.

To develop nasal resonance sing the

following, dwelling as long as possibleon the ng sounds. Pitch the voice in thenasal cavity. Practise both in high andlow registers, and develop range—withbrightness.

Sing-song. Ding-dong. Hong-kong.Long-thong.

Practise in the falsetto voice developsa bright quality in the normal speaking-voice. Try the following, and any otherselections you choose, in a falsettovoice. A man's falsetto voice isextremely high and womanish, so menshould not practise in falsetto after theexercise becomes tiresome.

She perfectly scorned the best of hisclan, and declared the ninth of any man,a perfectly vulgar fraction.

The actress Mary Anderson asked thepoet Longfellow what she could do toimprove her voice. He replied, "Readaloud daily, joyous, lyric poetry."

The joyous tones are the bright tones.Develop them by exercise. Practise yourvoice exercises in an attitude of joy.Under the influence of pleasure the bodyexpands, the tone passages open, theaction of heart and lungs is accelerated,and all the primary conditions for goodtone are established.

More songs float out from the brokenwindows of the negro cabins in theSouth than from the palatial homes onFifth Avenue. Henry Ward Beecher saidthe happiest days of his life were notwhen he had become an international

character, but when he was an unknownminister out in Lawrenceville, Ohio,sweeping his own church, and workingas a carpenter to help pay the grocer.Happiness is largely an attitude of mind,of viewing life from the right angle. Theoptimistic attitude can be cultivated, andit will express itself in voice charm. Atelephone company recently placardedthis motto in their booths: "The Voicewith the Smile Wins." It does. Try it.

Reading joyous prose, or lyric poetry,will help put smile and joy of soul intoyour voice. The following selections areexcellent for practise.

REMEMBER that when you firstpractise these classics you are to givesole attention to two things: a joyous

attitude of heart and body, and brighttones of voice. After these ends havebeen attained to your satisfaction,carefully review the principles of publicspeaking laid down in the precedingchapters and put them into practise asyou read these passages again andagain. It would be better to commiteach selection to memory.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTISEFROM MILTON'S

"L'ALLEGRO"Haste thee, Nymph, and bring withtheeJest, and youthful Jollity,Quips and Cranks and wantonWiles,

Nods and Becks, and wreathèdSmiles,Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,And love to live in dimple sleek,—Sport that wrinkled Care derides,And Laughter holding both hissides. Come, and trip it as ye goOn the light fantastic toe;And in thy right hand lead with theeThe mountain nymph, sweetLiberty:And, if I give thee honor due,Mirth, admit me of thy crew,To live with her, and live withthee,In unreprovèd pleasures free;

To hear the lark begin his flight,And singing, startle the dull NightFrom his watch-tower in the skies,Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;Then to come in spite of sorrow,And at my window bid good-morrowThrough the sweetbrier, or the vine,Or the twisted eglantine;While the cock with lively dinScatters the rear of darkness thin,And to the stack, or the barn-door,Stoutly struts his dames before; Oft listening how the hounds andhornCheerly rouse the slumbering Morn,

From the side of some hoar hill,Through the high wood echoingshrill;Sometime walking, not unseen,By hedge-row elms, on hillocksgreen,Right against the eastern gate,Where the great Sun begins hisstate,Robed in flames and amber light,The clouds in thousand liveriesdight,While the plowman near at handWhistles o'er the furrowed land,And the milkmaid singing blithe,And the mower whets his scythe,And every shepherd tells his tale,Under the hawthorn in the dale.

THE SEA

The sea, the sea, the open sea,The blue, the fresh, the fever free;Without a mark, without a bound,It runneth the earth's wide regionsround;It plays with the clouds, it mocksthe skies,Or like a cradled creature lies.I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea,I am where I would ever be,With the blue above and the bluebelow,And silence wheresoe'er I go.If a storm should come and awakethe deep,

What matter? I shall ride and sleep. I love, oh! how I love to rideOn the fierce, foaming, burstingtide,Where every mad wave drowns themoon,And whistles aloft its tempest tune,And tells how goeth the worldbelow,And why the southwest wind dothblow!I never was on the dull, tame shore But I loved the great sea more andmore,And backward flew to her billowybreast,

Like a bird that seeketh hermother's nest,—And a mother she was and is to me,For I was born on the open sea. The waves were white, and red themorn,In the noisy hour when I was born;The whale it whistled, the porpoiserolled,And the dolphins bared their backsof gold;And never was heard such anoutcry wild,As welcomed to life the oceanchild.I have lived, since then, in calm andstrife,

Full fifty summers a rover's life,With wealth to spend, and a powerto range,But never have sought or sighed forchange:And death, whenever he comes tome,Shall come on the wide, unboundedsea!

—Barry Cornwall.The sun does not shine for a fewtrees and flowers, but for the wideworld's joy. The lonely pine uponthe mountain-top waves its sombreboughs, and cries, "Thou art mysun." And the little meadow violetlifts its cup of blue, and whisperswith its perfumed breath, "Thou art

my sun." And the grain in athousand fields rustles in the wind,and makes answer, "Thou art mysun." And so God sits effulgent inHeaven, not for a favored few, butfor the universe of life; and there isno creature so poor or so low thathe may not look up with child-likeconfidence and say, "My Father!Thou art mine."—Henry WardBeecher.

THE LARK Bird of the wilderness, Blithesome and cumberless,Sweet be thy matin o'er moorlandand lea! Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place:Oh, to abide in the desert with thee! Wild is thy lay, and loud, Far in the downy cloud,—Love gives it energy; love gave itbirth. Where, on thy dewy wing Where art thou journeying?Thy lay is in heaven; thy love is onearth. O'er fell and fountain sheen, O'er moor and mountain green,O'er the red streamer that heraldsthe day; Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainbow's rim,

Musical cherub, soar, singing,away! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms,Sweet will thy welcome and bed oflove be! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place.Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!

—James Hogg.

In joyous conversation there is anelastic touch, a delicate stroke, upon thecentral ideas, generally following apause. This elastic touch adds vivacityto the voice. If you try repeatedly, it canbe sensed by feeling the tongue strike the

teeth. The entire absence of elastic touchin the voice can be observed in the thicktongue of the intoxicated man. Try to talkwith the tongue lying still in the bottomof the mouth, and you will obtain largelythe same effect. Vivacity of utterance isgained by using the tongue to strike offthe emphatic idea with a decisive,elastic touch.

Deliver the following with decisivestrokes on the emphatic ideas. Deliver itin a vivacious manner, noting the elastictouch-action of the tongue. Aflexible, responsive tongue is absolutelyessential to good voice work.

FROM NAPOLEON'S ADDRESSTO THE DIRECTORY ON HIS

RETURN FROM EGYPTWhat have you done with thatbrilliant France which I left you? Ileft you at peace, and I find you atwar. I left you victorious and I findyou defeated. I left you the millionsof Italy, and I find only spoliationand poverty. What have you donewith the hundred thousandFrenchmen, my companions inglory? They are dead!… This stateof affairs cannot last long; in lessthan three years it would plunge usinto despotism.

Practise the following selection, forthe development of elastic touch; say itin a joyous spirit, using the exercise to

develop voice charm in all the wayssuggested in this chapter.

THE BROOKI come from haunts of coot andhern, I make a sudden sally,And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges;By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river;For men may come and men may

go, But I go on forever. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret, By many a field and fallow,And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river;For men may come and men maygo,

But I go on forever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing,And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel,With many a silvery water-break Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river,For men may come and men maygo, But I go on forever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers,I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows;I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows, I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses,I linger by my shingly bars, I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river;For men may come and men may

go, But I go on forever.

—Alfred Tennyson.

The children at play on the street, gladfrom sheer physical vitality, display aresonance and charm in their voicesquite different from the voices that floatthrough the silent halls of the hospitals.A skilled physician can tell much abouthis patient's condition from the meresound of the voice. Failing health, oreven physical weariness, tells throughthe voice. It is always well to rest andbe entirely refreshed before attemptingto deliver a public address. As to health,neither scope nor space permits us todiscuss here the laws of hygiene. There

are many excellent books on this subject.In the reign of the Roman emperorTiberius, one senator wrote to another:"To the wise, a word is sufficient."

"The apparel oft proclaims the man;"the voice always does—it is one of thegreatest revealers of character. Thesuperficial woman, the brutish man, thereprobate, the person of culture, oftendiscloses inner nature in the voice, foreven the cleverest dissembler cannotentirely prevent its tones and qualitiesbeing affected by the slightest change ofthought or emotion. In anger it becomeshigh, harsh, and unpleasant; in love low,soft, and melodious—the variations areas limitless as they are fascinating toobserve. Visit a theatrical hotel in a

large city, and listen to the buzz-sawvoices of the chorus girls from someburlesque "attraction." The explanationis simple—buzz-saw lives. Emersonsaid: "When a man lives with God hisvoice shall be as sweet as the murmur ofthe brook or the rustle of the corn." It isimpossible to think selfish thoughts andhave either an attractive personality, alovely character, or a charming voice. Ifyou want to possess voice charm,cultivate a deep, sincere sympathy formankind. Love will shine out throughyour eyes and proclaim itself in yourtones. One secret of the sweetness of thecanary's song may be his freedom fromtainted thoughts. Your characterbeautifies or mars your voice. As a man

thinketh in his heart so is his voice.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES 1. Define (a) charm; (b) joy; (c)

beauty.2. Make a list of all the words related

to joy.3. Write a three-minute eulogy of "The

Joyful Man."4. Deliver it without the use of notes.

Have you carefully considered all thequalities that go to make up voice-charmin its delivery?

5. Tell briefly in your own wordswhat means may be employed todevelop a charming voice.

6. Discuss the effect of voice on

character.7. Discuss the effect of character on

voice.8. Analyze the voice charm of any

speaker or singer you choose.9. Analyze the defects of any given

voice.10. Make a short humorous speech

imitating certain voice defects, pointingout reasons.

11. Commit the following stanza andinterpret each phase of delight suggestedor expressed by the poet.

An infant when it gazes on a light, A child the moment when itdrains the breast,A devotee when soars the Host in

sight, An Arab with a stranger for aguest,A sailor when the prize has struckin fight, A miser filling his most hoardedchest,Feel rapture; but not such true joyare reapingAs they who watch o'er what theylove while sleeping.

—Byron, Don Juan.

14ChapterDISTINCTNESS ANDPRECISION OFUTTERANCE

In man speaks God.—Hesiod, Words and Days.

And endless are the modes ofspeech, and farExtends from side to side the fieldof words.

—Homer, Iliad.

In popular usage the terms"pronunciation," "enunciation," and"articulation" are synonymous, but realpronunciation includes three distinctprocesses, and may therefore be defineda s , the utterance of a syllable or agroup of syllables with regard toarticulation, accentuation, andenunciation.

Distinct and precise utterance is oneof the most important considerations ofpublic speech. How preposterous it is tohear a speaker making sounds of"inarticulate earnestness" under thecontented delusion that he is tellingsomething to his audience! Telling?

Telling means communicating, and howcan he actually communicate withoutmaking every word distinct?

Slovenly pronunciation results fromeither physical deformity or habit. Asurgeon or a surgeon dentist may correcta deformity, but your own will, workingby self-observation and resolution indrill, will break a habit. All dependsupon whether you think it worth while.

Defective speech is so widespreadthat freedom from it is the exception. Itis painfully common to hearp ub l i c speakers mutilate the king'sEnglish. If they do not actually murder it,as Curran once said, they often knockan i out.

A Canadian clergyman, writing in

the Homiletic Review, relates that in hisstudent days "a classmate who was anEnglishman supplied a country churchfor a Sunday. On the following Mondayhe conducted a missionary meeting. Inthe course of his address he said somefarmers thought they were doing theirduty toward missions when they gavetheir 'hodds and hends' to the work, butthe Lord required more. At the close ofthe meeting a young woman seriouslysaid to a friend: 'I am sure the farmersdo well if they give their hogs and hensto missions. It is more than most peoplecan afford.'"

It is insufferable effrontery for anyman to appear before an audience whopersists in driving the h out of

happiness, home and heaven, and, toparaphrase Waldo Messaros, will not letit rest in hell. He who does not showenough self-knowledge to see in himselfsuch glaring faults, nor enough self-mastery to correct them, has no businessto instruct others. If he can do no better,he should be silent. If he will do nobetter, he should also be silent.

Barring incurable physical defects—and few are incurable nowadays—thewhole matter is one of will. Thecatalogue of those who have done theimpossible by faithful work is asinspiring as a roll-call of warriors. "Theless there is of you," says NathanSheppard, "the more need for you tomake the most of what there is of you."

ArticulationArticulation is the forming and joining

of the elementary sounds of speech. Itseems an appalling task to utterarticulately the third-of-a million wordsthat go to make up our Englishvocabulary, but the way to make abeginning is really simple: learn to uttercorrectly, and with easy change fromone to the other, each of the forty-fourelementary sounds in our language.

The reasons why articulation is sopainfully slurred by a great many publicspeakers are four: ignorance of theelemental sounds; failure to discriminatebetween sounds nearly alike; a slovenly,lazy use of the vocal organs; and a torpidwill. Anyone who is still master of

himself will know how to handle each ofthese defects.

The vowel sounds are the most vexingsource of errors, especially wherediphthongs are found. Who has not heardsuch errors as are hit off in thisinimitable verse by Oliver WendellHolmes:

Learning condemns beyond thereach of hopeThe careless lips that speak of s?apfor s?ap;Her edict exiles from her fairabodeThe clownish voice that utters r?adfor r?ad;Less stern to him who calls his c?

at, a c?atAnd steers his b?at believing it a b?at.She pardoned one, our classic city'sboast.Who said at Cambridge, m?stinstead of m?st,But knit her brows and stamped herangry footTo hear a Teacher call a r??t a r??t.

The foregoing examples are allmonosyllables, but bad articulation isfrequently the result of joining soundsthat do not belong together. For example,no one finds it difficult to say beauty,but many persist in pronouncing duty asthough it were spelled

eitherdooty or juty. It is not only fromuntaught speakers that we hear suchslovenly articulationsa s colyum for column,a n d pritty forpretty, but even greatorators occasionally offend quite asunblushingly as less noted mortals.

Nearly all such are errors ofcarelessness, not of pure ignorance—ofcarelessness because the ear never triesto hear what the lips articulate. It mustbe exasperating to a foreigner to find thatthe elemental sound ou gives him no hintfor the pronunciationo f bough,cough, rough, thorough,and through, and we can well forgiveeven a man of culture who occasionallyloses his way amidst the intricacies of

English articulation, but there can be noexcuse for the slovenly utterance of thesimple vowel sounds which form at oncethe life and the beauty of our language.He who is too lazy to speak distinctlyshould hold his tongue.

The consonant sounds occasionserious trouble only for those who donot look with care at the spelling ofwords about to be pronounced. Nothingbut carelessness can account forsaying Jacop, Babtist, sevem, alwus,or sadisfy.

"He that hath yaws to yaw, let himyaw," is the rendering which anAnglophobiac clergyman gave of thefamiliar scripture, "He that hath ears tohear, let him hear." After hearing the

name of Sir Humphry Davy pronounced,a Frenchman who wished to write to theeminent Englishman thus addressed theletter: "Serum Fridavi."

AccentuationAccentuation is the stressing of the

proper syllables in words. This it is thatis popularly called pronunciation. Forinstance, we properly say that a word ismispronounced when it is accented in'-viteinstead of in-vite', though it is reallyan offense against only one form ofpronunciation—accentuation.

It is the work of a lifetime to learn theaccents of a large vocabulary and tokeep pace with changing usage; but analert ear, the study of word-origins, andthe dictionary habit, will prove to be

mighty helpers in a task that can never befinally completed.

EnunciationCorrect enunciation is the complete

utterance of all the sounds of a syllableor a word. Wrong articulation gives thewrong sound to the vowel or vowels ofa word or a syllable, as doo for dew; orunites two sounds improperly,a s hully for wholly. Wrong enunciationis the incomplete utterance of a syllableor a word, the sound omitted or addedbeing usually consonantal. Tosayneedcessity instead of necessity is awrong articulation; tos a y doin for doing is improperenunciation. The one articulates—that is,joints—two sounds that should not be

joined, and thus gives the word apositively wrong sound; the other fails totouch all the sounds in the word, and inthat particular way also sounds theword incorrectly.

"My tex' may be foun' in the fif' andsix' verses of the secon' chapter of Titus;and the subjec' of my discourse is 'TheGover'ment of ar Homes.'"[6]

What did this preacher do with hisfinal consonants? This slovenlydropping of essential sounds is asoffensive as the common habit of runningwords together so that they lose theirindividuality and distinctness. Lightendark, uppen down, doncherknow, partic'lar,zamination, are all toocommon to need comment.

Imperfect enunciation is due to lack ofattention and to lazy lips. It can becorrected by resolutely attending to theformation of syllables as they areuttered. Flexible lips will enunciatedifficult combinations of sounds withoutslighting any of them, but such flexibilitycannot be attained except by habituallyuttering words with distinctness andaccuracy. A daily exercise inenunciating a series of sounds will in ashort time give flexibility to the lips andalertness to the mind, so that no wordwill be uttered without receiving its duecomplement of sound.

Returning to our definition, we seethat when the sounds of a word areproperly articulated, the right syllables

accented, and full value given to eachsound in its enunciation, we have correctpronunciation. Perhaps one word ofcaution is needed here, lest any one,anxious to bring out clearly every sound,should overdo the matter and neglect theunity and smoothness of pronunciation.Be careful not to bring syllables into somuch prominence as to make wordsseem long and angular. The joints mustbe kept decently dressed.

Before delivery, do not fail to go overyour manuscript and note every soundthat may possibly be mispronounced.Consult the dictionary and makeassurance doubly sure. If thearrangement of words is unfavorable toclear enunciation, change either words

or order and do not rest until you canfollow Hamlet's directions to theplayers.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Practise repeating the following

rapidly, paying particular attention to theconsonants.

"Foolish Flavius, flushingfeverishly, fiercely found fault withFlora's frivolity.[7]"Mary's matchless mimicry makesmuch mischief.Seated on shining shale she sellssea shells.You youngsters yielded your

youthful yule-tide yearningsyesterday.

2. Sound the l in each of the followingwords, repeated in sequence:

Blue black blinkers blocked BlackBlondin's eyes.

3. Do you say a bloo sky ora blue sky?

4. Compare the u sound in few andi n new. Say each aloud, and decidewhich is correct, Noo York , New Yawk ,or New York?

5. Pay careful heed to the directionsof this chapter in reading the following,from Hamlet. After the interview withthe ghost of his father, Hamlet tells his

friends Horatio and Marcellus that heintends to act a part:

Horatio. O day and night, but this iswondrous strange!Hamlet. And therefore as a strangergive it welcome.There are more things in heavenand earth, Horatio,Than are dreamt of in yourphilosophy.But come;Here, as before, never, so help youmercy,How strange or odd so'er I bearmyself,—As I perchance hereafter shall thinkmeet

To put an antic disposition on,—That you, at such times seeing me,never shall,With arms encumber'd thus, or thishead-shake,Or by pronouncing of somedoubtful phrase,As "Well, well, we know," or "Wecould, an if we would,"Or "If we list to speak," or "Therebe, an if there might,"Or such ambiguous giving-out, tonoteThat you know aught of me: this notto do,So grace and mercy at your mostneed help you,Swear.

—Act I. Scene V.

6. Make a list of common errors ofpronunciation, saying which are due tofaulty articulation, wrong accentuation,and incomplete enunciation. In each casemake the correction.

7. Criticise any speech you may haveheard which displayed these faults.

8. Explain how the false shame ofseeming to be too precise may hinder usfrom cultivating perfect verbal utterance.

9. Over-precision is likewise a fault.To bring out any syllable unduly is tocaricature the word. Be moderate inreading the following:

THE LAST SPEECH OFMAXIMILIAN DE ROBESPIERRE

The enemies of the Republic callme tyrant! Were I such they wouldgrovel at my feet. I should gorgethem with gold, I should grant themimmunity for their crimes, and theywould be grateful. Were I such, thekings we have vanquished, far fromdenouncing Robespierre, wouldlend me their guilty support; therewould be a covenant between themand me. Tyranny must have tools.But the enemies of tyranny,—whither does their path tend? To thetomb, and to immortality! Whattyrant is my protector? To whatfaction do I belong? Yourselves!What faction, since the beginning ofthe Revolution, has crushed and

annihilated so many detectedtraitors? You, the people,—ourprinciples—are that faction—afaction to which I am devoted, andagainst which all the scoundrelismof the day is banded!The confirmation of the Republichas been my object; and I know thatthe Republic can be establishedonly on the eternal basis ofmorality. Against me, and againstthose who hold kindred principles,the league is formed. My life? Oh!my life I abandon without a regret! Ihave seen the past; and I foresee thefuture. What friend of this countrywould wish to survive the momentwhen he could no longer serve it,—

when he could no longer defendinnocence against oppression?Wherefore should I continue in anorder of things, where intrigueeternally triumphs over truth; wherejustice is mocked; where passionsthe most abject, or fears the mostabsurd, over-ride the sacredinterests of humanity? In witnessingthe multitude of vices which thetorrent of the Revolution has rolledin turbid communion with its civicvirtues, I confess that I havesometimes feared that I should besullied, in the eyes of posterity, bythe impure neighborhood ofunprincipled men, who had thrustthemselves into association with

the sincere friends of humanity; andI rejoice that these conspiratorsagainst my country have now, bytheir reckless rage, traced deep theline of demarcation betweenthemselves and all true men.Question history, and learn how allthe defenders of liberty, in alltimes, have been overwhelmed bycalumny. But their traducers diedalso. The good and the baddisappear alike from the earth; butin very different conditions. OFrenchmen! O my countrymen! Letnot your enemies, with theirdesolating doctrines, degrade yoursouls, and enervate your virtues!No, Chaumette, no! Death is not "an

eternal sleep!" Citizens! effacefrom the tomb that motto, graven bysacrilegious hands, which spreadsover all nature a funereal crape,takes from oppressed innocence itssupport, and affronts the beneficentdispensation of death! Inscriberather thereon these words: "Deathis the commencement ofimmortality!" I leave to theoppressors of the People a terribletestament, which I proclaim withthe independence befitting onewhose career is so nearly ended; itis the awful truth—"Thou shaltdie!"

15ChapterTHE TRUTH ABOUTGESTURE

When Whitefield acted an old blindman advancing by slow stepstoward the edge of the precipice,Lord Chesterfield started up andcried: "Good God, he is gone!"—Nathan Sheppard, Before anAudience.

Gesture is really a simple matter thatrequires observation and common senserather than a book of rules. Gesture is anoutward expression of an inwardcondition. It is merely an effect—theeffect of a mental or an emotionalimpulse struggling for expressionthrough physical avenues.

You must not, however, begin at thewrong end: if you are troubled by yourgestures, or a lack of gestures, attend tothe cause, not the effect. It will not in theleast help matters to tack on to yourdelivery a few mechanical movements.If the tree in your front yard is notgrowing to suit you, fertilize and waterthe soil and let the tree have sunshine.Obviously it will not help your tree to

nail on a few branches. If your cistern isdry, wait until it rains; or bore a well.Why plunge a pump into a dry hole?

The speaker whose thoughts andemotions are welling within him like amountain spring will not have muchtrouble to make gestures; it will bemerely a question of properly directingthem. If his enthusiasm for his subject isnot such as to give him a natural impulsefor dramatic action, it will avail nothingto furnish him with a long list of rules.He may tack on some movements, butthey will look like the wilted branchesnailed to a tree to simulate life. Gesturesmust be born, not built. A wooden horsemay amuse the children, but it takes alive one to go somewhere.

It is not only impossible to lay downdefinite rules on this subject, but itwould be silly to try, for everythingdepends on the speech, the occasion, thepersonality and feelings of the speaker,and the attitude of the audience. It is easyenough to forecast the result ofmultiplying seven by six, but it isimpossible to tell any man what kind ofgestures he will be impelled to use whenhe wishes to show his earnestness. Wemay tell him that many speakers closethe hand, with the exception of theforefinger, and pointing that fingerstraight at the audience pour out theirthoughts like a volley; or that othersstamp one foot for emphasis; or that Mr.Bryan often slaps his hands together for

great force, holding one palm upward inan easy manner; or that Gladstone wouldsometimes make a rush at the clerk'stable in Parliament and smite it with hishand so forcefully that D'israeli oncebrought down the house by grimlycongratulating himself that such a barrierstood between himself and "thehonorable gentleman."

All these things, and a bookful more,may we tell the speaker, but we cannotknow whether he can use these gesturesor not, any more than we can decidewhether he could wear Mr. Bryan'sclothes. The best that can be done on thissubject is to offer a few practicalsuggestions, and let personal good tastedecide as to where effective dramatic

action ends and extravagant motionbegins.

Any Gesture That Merely CallsAttention to Itself Is Bad

The purpose of a gesture is to carryyour thought and feeling into the mindsand hearts of your hearers; this it doesby emphasizing your message, byinterpreting it, by expressing it in action,by striking its tone in either a physicallydescriptive, a suggestive, or a typicalgesture—and let it be remembered allthe time that gestureincludes all physical movement, fromfacial expression and the tossing of thehead to the expressive movements ofhand and foot. A shifting of the pose maybe a most effective gesture.

What is true of gesture is true of alllife. If the people on the street turnaround and watch your walk, your walkis more important than you are—changeit. If the attention of your audience iscalled to your gestures, they are notconvincing, because they appear to be—what they have a doubtful right to be inreality—studied. Have you ever seen aspeaker use such grotesquegesticulations that you were fascinatedby their frenzy of oddity, but could notfollow his thought? Do not smother ideaswith gymnastics. Savonarola would rushdown from the high pulpit among thecongregation in the duomo at Florenceand carry the fire of conviction to hishearers; Billy Sunday slides to base on

the platform carpet in dramatizing one ofhis baseball illustrations. Yet in bothinstances the message has somehowstood out bigger than the gesture—it ischiefly in calm afterthought that menhave remembered the form of dramaticexpression. When Sir Henry Irving madehis famous exit as "Shylock" the lastthing the audience saw was his pallid,avaricious hand extended skinny andclaw-like against the background. At thetime, every one was overwhelmed by thetremendous typical quality of thisgesture; now, we have time to think of itsart, and discuss its realistic power.

Only when gesture is subordinated tothe absorbing importance of the idea—aspontaneous, living expression of living

truth—is it justifiable at all; and when itis remembered for itself—as a piece ofunusual physical energy or as a poem ofgrace—it is a dead failure as dramaticexpression. There is a place for a uniquestyle of walking—it is the circus or thecake-walk; there is a place forsurprisingly rhythmical evolutions ofarms and legs—it is on the dance flooror the stage. Don't let your agility andgrace put your thoughts out of business.

One of the present writers took hisfirst lessons in gesture from a certaincollege president who knew far moreabout what had happened at the Diet ofWorms than he did about how to expresshimself in action. His instructions wereto start the movement on a certain word,

continue it on a precise curve, andunfold the fingers at the conclusion,ending with the forefinger—just so.Plenty, and more than plenty, has beenpublished on this subject, giving justsuch silly directions. Gesture is a thingof mentality and feeling—not a matter ofgeometry. Remember, whenever a pairof shoes, a method of pronunciation, or agesture calls attention to itself, it is bad.When you have made really goodgestures in a good speech your hearerswill not go away saying, "What beautifulgestures he made!" but they will say, "I'llvote for that measure." "He is right—Ibelieve in that."

Gestures Should Be Born of theMoment

The best actors and public speakersrarely know in advance what gesturesthey are going to make. They make onegesture on certain words tonight, andnone at all tomorrow night at the samepoint—their various moods andinterpretations govern their gestures. It isall a matter of impulse and intelligentfeeling with them—don't overlook thatw o r d intelligent. Nature does notalways provide the same kind of sunsetsor snow flakes, and the movements of agood speaker vary almost as much as thecreations of nature.

Now all this is not to say that youmust not take some thought for yourgestures. If that were meant, why thischapter? When the sergeant despairingly

besought the recruit in the awkwardsquad to step out and look at himself, hegave splendid advice—and worthy ofpersonal application. Particularly whileyou are in the learning days of publicspeaking you must learn to criticise yourown gestures. Recall them—see wherethey were useless, crude, awkward,what not, and do better next time. Thereis a vast deal of difference betweenbeing conscious of self and being self-conscious.

It will require your nicediscrimination in order to cultivatespontaneous gestures and yet give dueattention to practise. While you dependupon the moment it is vital to rememberthat only a dramatic genius can

effectively accomplish such feats as wehave related of Whitefield, Savonarola,and others: and doubtless the first timethey were used they came in a burst ofspontaneous feeling, yet Whitefielddeclared that not until he had delivered asermon forty times was its deliveryperfected. What spontaneity initiates letpractise complete. Every effectivespeaker and every vivid actor hasobserved, considered and practisedgesture until his dramatic actions are asub-conscious possession, just like hisability to pronounce correctly withoutespecially concentrating his thought.Every able platform man has possessedhimself of a dozen ways in which hemight depict in gesture any given

emotion; in fact, the means for suchexpression are endless—and this isprecisely why it is both useless andharmful to make a chart of gestures andenforce them as the ideals of what maybe used to express this or that feeling.Practise descriptive, suggestive, andtypical movements until they come asnaturally as a good articulation; andrarely forecast the gestures you will useat a given moment: leave something tothat moment.

Avoid Monotony in GestureRoast beef is an excellent dish, but it

would be terrible as an exclusive diet.No matter how effective one gesture is,do not overwork it. Put variety in youractions. Monotony will destroy all

beauty and power. The pump handlemakes one effective gesture, and on hotdays that one is very eloquent, but it hasits limitations.

Any Movement that is notSignificant, Weakens

Do not forget that. Restlessness is notexpression. A great many uselessmovements will only take the attention ofthe audience from what you are saying.A widely-noted man introduced thespeaker of the evening one Sunday latelyto a New York audience. The only thingremembered about that introductoryspeech is that the speaker playednervously with the covering of the tableas he talked. We naturally watch movingobjects. A janitor putting down a

window can take the attention of thehearers from Mr. Roosevelt. By makinga few movements at one side of the stagea chorus girl may draw the interest of thespectators from a big scene between the"leads." When our forefathers lived incaves they had to watch moving objects,for movements meant danger. We havenot yet overcome the habit. Advertisershave taken advantage of it—witness themoving electric light signs in any city. Ashrewd speaker will respect this lawand conserve the attention of hisaudience by eliminating all unnecessarymovements.

Gesture Should either beSimultaneous with or Precede theWords—not Follow Them

Lady Macbeth says: "Bear welcomein your eye, your hand, your tongue."Reverse this order and you get comedy.Say, "There he goes," pointing at himafter you have finished your words, andsee if the result is not comical.

Do Not Make Short, JerkyMovements

Some speakers seem to be imitating awaiter who has failed to get a tip. Letyour movements be easy, and from theshoulder, as a rule, rather than from theelbow. But do not go to the otherextreme and make too many flowingmotions—that savors of thelackadaisical.

Put a little "punch" and life into yourgestures. You can not, however, do this

mechanically. The audience will detectit if you do. They may not know justwhat is wrong, but the gesture will havea false appearance to them.

Facial Expression is ImportantHave you ever stopped in front of a

Broadway theater and looked at thephotographs of the cast? Notice the rowof chorus girls who are supposed to beexpressing fear. Their attitudes are somechanical that the attempt is ridiculous.Notice the picture of the "star"expressing the same emotion: hismuscles are drawn, his eyebrows lifted,he shrinks, and fear shines through hiseyes. That actor feltfear when thephotograph was taken. The chorus girlsfelt that it was time for a rarebit, and

more nearly expressed that emotion thanthey did fear. Incidentally, that is onereason why they stay in the chorus.

The movements of the facial musclesmay mean a great deal more than themovements of the hand. The man whosits in a dejected heap with a look ofdespair on his face is expressing histhoughts and feelings just as effectivelyas the man who is waving his arms andshouting from the back of a dray wagon.The eye has been called the window ofthe soul. Through it shines the light ofour thoughts and feelings.

Do Not Use Too Much GestureAs a matter of fact, in the big crises of

life we do not go through many actions.When your closest friend dies you do not

throw up your hands and talk about yourgrief. You are more likely to sit andbrood in dry-eyed silence. The HudsonRiver does not make much noise on itsway to the sea—it is not half so loud asthe little creek up in Bronx Park that abullfrog could leap across. The barkingdog never tears your trousers—at leastthey say he doesn't. Do not fear the manwho waves his arms and shouts hisanger, but the man who comes up quietlywith eyes flaming and face burning mayknock you down. Fuss is not force.Observe these principles in nature andpractise them in your delivery.

The writer of this chapter onceobserved an instructor drilling a class ingesture. They had come to the passage

from Henry VIII in which the humbledCardinal says: "Farewell, a longfarewell to all my greatness." It is one ofthe pathetic passages of literature. Aman uttering such a sentiment would becrushed, and the last thing on earth hewould do would be to make flamboyantmovements. Yet this class had anelocutionary manual before them thatgave an appropriate gesture for everyoccasion, from paying the gas bill todeath-bed farewells. So they wereinstructed to throw their arms out at fulllength on each side and say: "Farewell,a long farewell to all my greatness."Such a gesture might possibly be used inan after-dinner speech at the conventionof a telephone company whose lines

extended from the Atlantic to the Pacific,but to think of Wolsey's using thatmovement would suggest that his fatewas just.

PostureThe physical attitude to be taken

before the audience really is included ingesture. Just what that attitude should bedepends, not on rules, but on the spirit ofthe speech and the occasion. Senator LaFollette stood for three hours with hisweight thrown on his forward foot as heleaned out over the footlights, ran hisfingers through his hair, and flamed out adenunciation of the trusts. It was veryeffective. But imagine a speaker takingthat kind of position to discourse on thedevelopment of road-making machinery.

If you have a fiery, aggressive message,and will let yourself go, nature willnaturally pull your weight to yourforward foot. A man in a hot politicalargument or a street brawl never has tostop to think upon which foot he shouldthrow his weight. You may sometimesplace your weight on your back foot ifyou have a restful and calm message—but don't worry about it: just stand like aman who genuinely feels what he issaying. Do not stand with your heelsclose together, like a soldier or a butler.No more should you stand with themwide apart like a traffic policeman. Usesimple good manners and commonsense.

Here a word of caution is needed. We

have advised you to allow your gesturesand postures to be spontaneous and notwoodenly prepared beforehand, but donot go to the extreme of ignoring theimportance of acquiring mastery of yourphysical movements. A muscular handmade flexible by free movement, is farmore likely to be an effective instrumentin gesture than a stiff, pudgy bunch offingers. If your shoulders are lithe andcarried well, while your chest does notretreat from association with your chin,the chances of using goodextemporaneous gestures are so much thebetter. Learn to keep the back of yourneck touching your collar, hold yourchest high, and keep down your waistmeasure.

So attention to strength, poise,flexibility, and grace of body are thefoundations of good gesture, for they areexpressions of vitality, and withoutvitality no speaker can enter the kingdomof power. When an awkward giant likeAbraham Lincoln rose to the sublimestheights of oratory he did so because ofthe greatness of his soul—his veryruggedness of spirit and artless honestywere properly expressed in his gnarlybody. The fire of character, ofearnestness, and of message swept hishearers before him when the tepid wordsof an insincere Apollo would have leftno effect. But be sure you are a secondLincoln before you despise the handicapof physical awkwardness.

"Ty" Cobb has confided to the publicthat when he is in a batting slump heeven stands before a mirror, bat in hand,to observe the "swing" and "followthrough" of his batting form. If youwould learn to stand well before anaudience, look at yourself in a mirror—but not too often. Practise walking andstanding before the mirror so as toconquer awkwardness—not to cultivatea pose. Stand on the platform in the sameeasy manner that you would use beforeguests in a drawing-room. If yourposition is not graceful, make it so bydancing, gymnasium work, and bygetting grace and poise in your mind.

Do not continually hold the sameposition. Any big change of thought

necessitates a change of position. Be athome. There are no rules—it is all amatter of taste. While on the platformforget that you have any hands until youdesire to use them—then remember themeffectively. Gravity will take care ofthem. Of course, if you want to put thembehind you, or fold them once in awhile,it is not going to ruin your speech.Thought and feeling are the big things inspeaking—not the position of a foot or ahand. Simply put your limbs where youwant them to be—you have a will, so donot neglect to use it.

Let us reiterate, do not despisepractise. Your gestures and movementsmay be spontaneous and still be wrong.No matter how natural they are, it is

possible to improve them.It is impossible for anyone—even

yourself—to criticise your gestures untilafter they are made. You can't prune apeach tree until it comes up; thereforespeak much, and observe your ownspeech. While you are examiningyourself, do not forget to study statuaryand paintings to see how the greatportrayers of nature have made theirsubjects express ideas through action.Notice the gestures of the best speakersand actors. Observe the physicalexpression of life everywhere. Thel eaves on the tree respond to theslightest breeze. The muscles of yourface, the light of your eyes, shouldrespond to the slightest change of

feeling. Emerson says: "Every man that Imeet is my superior in some way. In thatI learn of him." Illiterate Italians makegestures so wonderful and beautiful thatBooth or Barrett might have sat at theirfeet and been instructed. Open your eyes.Emerson says again: "We are immersedin beauty, but our eyes have no clearvision." Toss this book to one side; goout and watch one child plead withanother for a bite of apple; see a streetbrawl; observe life in action. Do youwant to know how to express victory?Watch the victors' hands go high onelection night. Do you want to plead acause? Make a composite photograph ofall the pleaders in daily life youconstantly see. Beg, borrow, and steal

the best you can get, BUT DON'T GIVEIT OUT AS THEFT. Assimilate it until itbecomes a part of you—then let theexpression come out.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. From what source do you intend to

study gesture?2. What is the first requisite of good

gestures? Why?3. Why is it impossible to lay down

steel-clad rules for gesturing?4. Describe (a) a graceful gesture that

you have observed; (b) a forceful one;(c) an extravagant one; (d) aninappropriate one.

5. What gestures do you use for

emphasis? Why?6. How can grace of movement be

acquired?7. When in doubt about a gesture what

would you do?8. What, according to your

observations before a mirror, are yourfaults in gesturing?

9. How do you intend to correct them?10. What are some of the gestures, if

any, that you might use in deliveringThurston's speech, page 50; Grady'sspeech, page 36? Be specific.

11. Describe some particularlyappropriate gesture that you haveobserved. Why was it appropriate?

12. Cite at least three movements innature that might well be imitated in

gesture.13. What would you gather from the

expressions: descriptive gesture, suggestiveand typical gesture?

14. Select any elemental emotion,such as fear, and try, by picturing in yourmind at least five different situations thatmight call forth this emotion, to expressits several phases by gesture—includingposture, movement, and facialexpression.

15. Do the same thing for such otheremotions as you may select.

16. Select three passages from anysource, only being sure that they aresuitable for public delivery, memorizeeach, and then devise gestures suitablefor each. Say why.

17. Criticise the gestures in anyspeech you have heard recently.

18. Practise flexible movement of thehand. What exercises did you finduseful?

19. Carefully observe some animal;then devise several typical gestures.

20. Write a brief dialogue betweenany two animals; read it aloud andinvent expressive gestures.

21. Deliver, with appropriate

gestures, the quotation that heads thischapter.

22. Read aloud the following incident,using dramatic gestures:

When Voltaire was preparing a

young actress to appear in one ofhis tragedies, he tied her hands toher sides with pack thread in orderto check her tendency towardexuberant gesticulation. Under thiscondition of compulsory immobilityshe commenced to rehearse, and forsome time she bore herself calmlyenough; but at last, completelycarried away by her feelings, sheburst her bonds and flung up herarms. Alarmed at her supposedneglect of his instructions, shebegan to apologize to the poet; hesmilingly reassured her, however;the gesture was then admirable,because it was irrepressible.—Redway, The Actor's Art.

23. Render the following withsuitable gestures:

One day, while preaching,Whitefield "suddenly assumed anautical air and manner that wereirresistible with him," and brokeforth in these words: "Well, myboys, we have a clear sky, and aremaking fine headway over a smoothsea before a light breeze, and weshall soon lose sight of land. Butwhat means this sudden lowering ofthe heavens, and that dark cloudarising from beneath the westernhorizon? Hark! Don't you heardistant thunder? Don't you see thoseflashes of lightning? There is a

storm gathering! Every man to hisduty! The air is dark!—the tempestrages!—our masts are gone!—theship is on her beam ends! Whatnext?" At this a number of sailors inthe congregation, utterly sweptaway by the dramatic description,leaped to their feet and cried: "Thelongboat!—take to the longboat!"

—Nathan Sheppard, Before anAudience.

16ChapterMETHODS OFDELIVERY

The crown, the consummation, ofthe discourse is its delivery.Toward it all preparation looks, forit the audience waits, by it thespeaker is judged… . All the forcesof the orator's life converge in hisoratory. The logical acuteness with

which he marshals the facts aroundhis theme, the rhetorical facilitywith which he orders his language,the control to which he has attainedin the use of his body as a singleorgan of expression, whateverrichness of acquisition andexperience are his—these all arenow incidents; the fact is thesending of his message home to hishearers… . The hour of delivery isthe "supreme, inevitable hour" forthe orator. It is this fact that makeslack of adequate preparation suchan impertinence. And it is this thatsends such thrills of indescribablejoy through the orator's whole beingwhen he has achieved a success—it

is like the mother forgetting herpangs for the joy of bringing a soninto the world.—J.B.E., How to Attract and Hold

an Audience.

There are four fundamental methodsof delivering an address; all others aremodifications of one or more of these:reading from manuscript, committing thewritten speech and speaking frommemory, speaking from notes, andextemporaneous speech. It is impossibleto say which form of delivery is best forall speakers in all circumstances—indeciding for yourself you shouldconsider the occasion, the nature of theaudience, the character of your subject,

and your own limitations of time andability. However, it is worth whilewarning you not to be lenient in self-exaction. Say to yourself courageously:What others can do, I can attempt. Abold spirit conquers where others flinch,and a trying task challenges pluck.

Reading from ManuscriptThis method really deserves short

shrift in a book on public speaking, for,delude yourself as you may, publicreading is not public speaking. Yet thereare so many who grasp this broken reedfor support that we must here discuss the"read speech"—apologetic misnomer asit is.

Certainly there are occasions—amongthem, the opening of Congress, the

presentation of a sore question before adeliberative body, or a historicalcommemoration—when it may seem notalone to the "orator" but to all thoseinterested that the chief thing is toexpress certain thoughts in preciselanguage—in language that must not beeither misunderstood or misquoted. Atsuch times oratory is unhappily elbowedto a back bench, the manuscript issolemnly withdrawn from the capaciousinner pocket of the new frock coat, andeveryone settles himself resignedly, withonly a feeble flicker of hope that the so-called speech may not be as long as it isthick. The words may be golden, but thehearers' (?) eyes are prone to be leaden,and in about one instance out of a

hundred does the perpetrator reallydeliver an impressive address. Hisexcuse is his apology—he is not to beblamed, as a rule, for some one decreedthat it would be dangerous to cut loosefrom manuscript moorings and take hisaudience with him on a really delightfulsail.

One great trouble on such "greatoccasions" is that the essayist—for suchhe is—has been chosen not because ofhis speaking ability but because hisgrandfather fought in a certain battle, orhis constituents sent him to Congress, orhis gifts in some line of endeavor otherthan speaking have distinguished him.

As well choose a surgeon from hisability to play golf. To be sure, it always

interests an audience to see a great man;because of his eminence they are likelyto listen to his words with respect,perhaps with interest, even when dronedfrom a manuscript. But how much moreeffective such a deliverance would be ifthe papers were cast aside!

Nowhere is the read-address socommon as in the pulpit—the pulpit, thatin these days least of all can afford toinvite a handicap. Doubtless manyclergymen prefer finish to fervor—letthem choose: they are rarely men whosway the masses to acceptance of theirmessage. What they gain in precisionand elegance of language they lose inforce.

There are just four motives that can

move a man to read his address orsermon:

1. Laziness is the commonest. Enoughsaid. Even Heaven cannot make a lazyman efficient.

2. A memory so defective that hereally cannot speak without reading.Alas, he is not speaking when he isreading, so his dilemma is painful—andnot to himself alone. But no man has aright to assume that his memory is utterlybad until he has buckled down tomemory culture—and failed. A weakmemory is oftener an excuse than areason.

3. A genuine lack of time to do morethan write the speech. There are suchinstances—but they do not occur every

week! The disposition of your timeallows more flexibility than you realize.Motive 3 too often harnesses up withMotive 1.

4. A conviction that the speech is tooimportant to risk forsaking themanuscript. But, if it is vital that everyword should be so precise, the style sopolished, and the thoughts so logical,that the preacher must write the sermonentire, is not the message importantenough to warrant extra effort inperfecting its delivery? It is an insult to acongregation and disrespectful toAlmighty God to put the phrasing of amessage above the message itself. Toreach the hearts of the hearers thesermon must be delivered—it is only

half delivered when the speaker cannotutter it with original fire and force, whenhe merely repeats words that wereconceived hours or weeks before andhence are like champagne that has lostits fizz. The reading preacher's eyes aretied down to his manuscript; he cannotgive the audience the benefit of hisexpression. How long would a play filla theater if the actors held their cue-books in hand and read their parts?Imagine Patrick Henry reading hisfamous speech; Peter-the-Hermit,manuscript in hand, exhorting thecrusaders; Napoleon, constantly lookingat his papers, addressing the army at thePyramids; or Jesus reading the Sermonon the Mount! These speakers were so

full of their subjects, their generalpreparation had been so richly adequate,that there was no necessity for amanuscript, either to refer to or to serveas "an outward and visible sign" of theirpreparedness. No event was ever sodignified that it requireda n artificial attempt at speech making.Call an essay by its right name, but nevercall it a speech. Perhaps the mostdignified of events is a supplication tothe Creator. If you ever listened to thereading of an original prayer you musthave felt its superficiality.

Regardless of what the theories maybe about manuscript delivery, the factremains that it does not work out withefficiency. Avoid it whenever at all

possible.Committing the Written Speech and

Speaking from MemoryThis method has certain points in its

favor. If you have time and leisure, it ispossible to polish and rewrite yourideas until they are expressed in clear,concise terms. Pope sometimes spent awhole day in perfecting one couplet.Gibbon consumed twenty years gatheringmaterial for and rewriting the "Declineand Fall of the Roman Empire."Although you cannot devote suchpainstaking preparation to a speech, youshould take time to eliminate uselesswords, crowd whole paragraphs into asentence and choose proper illustrations.Good speeches, like plays, are not

written; they are rewritten. The NationalCash Register Company follows thisplan with their most efficient sellingorganization: they require their salesmento memorize verbatim a selling talk.They maintain that there is one best wayof putting their selling arguments, andthey insist that each salesman use thisideal way rather than employ anyhaphazard phrases that may come intohis mind at the moment.

The method of writing and committinghas been adopted by many notedspeakers; Julius Cæsar, RobertIngersoll, and, on some occasions,Wendell Phillips, were distinguishedexamples. The wonderful effectsachieved by famous actors were, of

course, accomplished through thedelivery of memorized lines.

The inexperienced speaker must bewarned before attempting this method ofdelivery that it is difficult and trying. Itrequires much skill to make it efficient.The memorized lines of the youngspeaker will usually sound likememorized words, and repel.

If you want to hear an example, listento a department store demonstratorrepeat her memorized lingo about thenewest furniture polish or breakfastfood. It requires training to make amemorized speech sound fresh andspontaneous, and, unless you have a finenative memory, in each instance thefinished product necessitates much

labor. Should you forget a part of yourspeech or miss a few words, you areliable to be so confused that, like MarkTwain's guide in Rome, you will becompelled to repeat your lines from thebeginning.

On the other hand, you may be sotaken up with trying to recall yourwritten words that you will not abandonyourself to the spirit of your address,and so fail to deliver it with thatspontaneity which is so vital to forcefuldelivery.

But do not let these difficultiesfrighten you. If committing seems best toyou, give it a faithful trial. Do not bedeterred by its pitfalls, but by resolutepractise avoid them.

One of the best ways to rise superiorto these difficulties is to do as Dr.Wallace Radcliffe often does: commitwithout writing the speech, makingpractically all the preparation mentally,without putting pen to paper—alaborious but effective way ofcultivating both mind and memory.

You will find it excellent practise,both for memory and delivery, to committhe specimen speeches found in thisvolume and declaim them, with allattention to the principles we have putbefore you. William Ellery Channing,himself a distinguished speaker, yearsago had this to say of practise indeclamation:

"Is there not an amusement, having an

affinity with the drama, which might beusefully introduced among us? I mean,Recitation. A work of genius, recited bya man of fine taste, enthusiasm, andpowers of elocution, is a very pure andhigh gratification. Were this artcultivated and encouraged, greatnumbers, now insensible to the mostbeautiful compositions, might be wakedup to their excellence and power."

Speaking from NotesThe third, and the most popular

method of delivery, is probably also thebest one for the beginner. Speaking fromnotes is not ideal delivery, but we learnto swim in shallow water before goingout beyond the ropes.

Make a definite plan for your

discourse (for a fuller discussion seeChapter XVIII) and set down the pointssomewhat in the fashion of a lawyer'sbrief, or a preacher's outline. Here is asample of very simple notes:

ATTENTIONI. Introduction. Attention indispensable to theperformance of any greatwork. Anecdote.II. Defined And Illustrated. 1. From common observation. 2. From the lives of great men{Carlyle, Robert E. Lee.III. Its Relation To Other MentalPowers. 1. Reason.

2. Imagination. 3. Memory. 4. Will. Anecdote.IV. Attention May Be Cultivated. 1. Involuntary attention. 2. Voluntary attention. Examples.V. Conclusion. The consequences of inattentionand of attention.

Few briefs would be so precise asthis one, for with experience a speakerlearns to use little tricks to attract hiseye—he may underscore a catch-wordheavily, draw a red circle around apivotal idea, enclose the key-word of ananecdote in a wavy-lined box, and so onindefinitely. These points are worth

remembering, for nothing so eludes theswift-glancing eye of the speaker as thesameness of typewriting, or even aregular pen-script. So unintentional athing as a blot on the page may help youto remember a big "point" in your brief—perhaps by association of ideas.

An inexperienced speaker wouldprobably require fuller notes than thespecimen given. Yet that way liesdanger, for the complete manuscript isbut a short remove from the copiousoutline. Use as few notes as possible.

They may be necessary for the timebeing, but do not fail to look upon themas a necessary evil; and even when youlay them before you, refer to them onlywhen compelled to do so. Make your

notes as full as you please inpreparation, but by all means condensethem for platform use.

Extemporaneous SpeechSurely this is the ideal method of

delivery. It is far and away the mostpopular with the audience, and thefavorite method of the most efficientspeakers.

"Extemporaneous speech" hassometimes been made to meanunprepared speech, and indeed it is toooften precisely that; but in no such sensedo we recommend it strongly to speakersold and young. On the contrary, to speakwell without notes requires all thepreparation which we discussed so fullyin the chapter on "Fluency," while yet

relying upon the "inspiration of the hour"for some of your thoughts and much ofyour language. You had betterremember, however, that the mosteffective inspiration of the hour is theinspiration you yourself bring to it,bottled up in your spirit and ready toinfuse itself into the audience.

If you extemporize you can get muchcloser to your audience. In a sense, theyappreciate the task you have before youand send out their sympathy.Extemporize, and you will not have tostop and fumble around amidst yournotes—you can keep your eye afire withyour message and hold your audiencewith your very glance. You yourself willfeel their response as you read the

effects of your warm, spontaneouswords, written on their countenances.

Sentences written out in the study areliable to be dead and cold whenresurrected before the audience. Whenyou create as you speak you conserve allthe native fire of your thought. You canenlarge on one point or omit another, justas the occasion or the mood of theaudience may demand. It is not possiblefor every speaker to use this, the mostdifficult of all methods of delivery, andleast of all can it be used successfullywithout much practise, but it is the idealtowards which all should strive.

One danger in this method is that youmay be led aside from your subject intoby-paths. To avoid this peril, firmly

stick to your mental outline. Practisespeaking from a memorized brief untilyou gain control. Join a debating society— t a l k , talk, TALK, and alwaysextemporize. You may "make a fool ofyourself" once or twice, but is that toogreat a price to pay for success?

Notes, like crutches, are only a sign ofweakness. Remember that the power ofyour speech depends to some extentupon the view your audience holds ofyou. General Grant's words as presidentwere more powerful than his words as aMissouri farmer. If you would appear inthe light of an authority, be one. Makenotes on your brain instead of on paper.

Joint Methods of DeliveryA modification of the second method

has been adopted by many greatspeakers, particularly lecturers whoa r e compelled to speak on a widevariety of subjects day after day; suchspeakers often commit their addresses tomemory but keep their manuscripts inflexible book form before them, turningseveral pages at a time. They feel saferfor having a sheet-anchor to windward—but it is an anchor, nevertheless, andhinders rapid, free sailing, though it dragnever so lightly.

Other speakers throw out a stilllighter anchor by keeping before them arather full outline of their written andcommitted speech.

Others again write and commit a fewimportant parts of the address—the

introduction, the conclusion, some vitalargument, some pat illustration—anddepend on the hour for the language ofthe rest. This method is well adapted tospeaking either with or without notes.

Some speakers read from manuscriptthe most important parts of theirspeeches and utter the restextemporaneously.

Thus, what we have called "jointmethods of delivery" are open to muchpersonal variation. You must decide foryourself which is best for you, for theoccasion, for your subject, for youraudience—for these four factors all havetheir individual claims.

Whatever form you choose, do not beso weakly indifferent as to prefer the

easy way—choose the best way,whatever it cost you in time and effort.And of this be assured: only thepractised speaker can hope togain both conciseness of argument andconviction in manner, polish of languageand power in delivery, finish of styleand fire in utterance.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Which in your judgment is the most

suitable of delivery for you? Why?2. What objections can you offer to,

(a) memorizing the entire speech; (b)reading from manuscript; (c) using notes;(d) speaking from memorized outline ornotes; (ee) any of the "joint methods"?

3. What is there to commend indelivering a speech in any of theforegoing methods?

4. Can you suggest any combination ofmethods that you have found efficacious?

5. What methods, according to yourobservation, do most successfulspeakers use?

6. Select some topic from the list onpage 123, narrow the theme so as tomake it specific (see page 122), anddeliver a short address, utilizing the fourmethods mentioned, in four differentdeliveries of the speech.

7. Select one of the joint methods andapply it to the delivery of the sameaddress.

8. Which method do you prefer, and

why?9. From the list of subjects in the

Appendix select a theme and deliver afive-minute address without notes, butmake careful preparation without puttingyour thoughts on paper.

NOTE: It is earnestly hoped thatinstructors will not pass this stage of thework without requiring of their studentsmuch practise in the delivery of originalspeeches, in the manner that seems, aftersome experiment, to be best suited to thestudent's gifts. Students who are studyingalone should be equally exacting indemand upon themselves. One point ismost important: It is easy to learn to reada speech, therefore it is much moreurgent that the pupil should have much

practise in speaking from notes andspeaking without notes. At this stage,pay more attention to manner than tomatter—the succeeding chapters take upthe composition of the address. Beparticularly insistentupon frequent and thorough review ofthe principles of delivery discussed inthe preceding chapters.

17ChapterTHOUGHT ANDRESERVE POWER

Providence is always on the side ofthe last reserve.

—Napoleon Bonaparte.So mightiest powers by deepestcalms are fed,And sleep, how oft, in things thatgentlest be!

—Barry Cornwall, The Sea inCalm.

What would happen if you shouldoverdraw your bank account? As a rulethe check would be protested; but if youwere on friendly terms with the bank,your check might be honored, and youwould be called upon to make good theoverdraft.

Nature has no such favorites,therefore extends no credits. She is asrelentless as a gasoline tank—when the"gas" is all used the machine stops. It isas reckless for a speaker to risk goingbefore an audience without havingsomething in reserve as it is for themotorist to essay a long journey in the

wilds without enough gasoline in sight.But in what does a speaker's reserve

power consist? In a well-foundedreliance on his general and particulargrasp of his subject; in the quality ofbeing alert and resourceful in thought—particularly in the ability to think whileon his feet; and in that self-possessionwhich makes one the captain of all hisown forces, bodily and mental.

The first of these elements, adequatepreparation, and the last, self-reliance,were discussed fully in the chapters on"Self-Confidence" and "Fluency," sothey will be touched only incidentallyhere; besides, the next chapter will takeup specific methods of preparation forpublic speaking. Therefore the central

theme of this chapter is the second of theelements of reserve power—Thought.

The Mental StorehouseAn empty mind, like an empty larder,

may be a serious matter or not—all willdepend on the available resources. Ifthere is no food in the cupboard thehousewife does not nervously rattle theempty dishes; she telephones the grocer.If you have no ideas, do not rattle yourempty ers and ahs, but get some ideas,and don't speak until you do get them.

This, however, is not being what theold New England housekeeper used tocall "forehanded." The real solution ofthe problem of what to do with an emptyhead is never to let it become empty. Inthe artesian wells of Dakota the water

rushes to the surface and leaps a score offeet above the ground. The secret of thisexuberant flow is of course the greatsupply below, crowding to get out.

What is the use of stopping to prime amental pump when you can fill your lifewith the resources for an artesian well?It is not enough to have merely enough;you must have more than enough. Thenthe pressure of your mass of thought andfeeling will maintain your flow ofspeech and give you the confidence andpoise that denote reserve power. To beaway from home with only the exactreturn fare leaves a great deal tocircumstances!

Reserve power is magnetic. It doesnot consist in giving the idea that you are

holding something in reserve, but ratherin the suggestion that the audience isgetting the cream of your observation,reading, experience, feeling, thought. Tohave reserve power, therefore, you musthave enough milk of material on hand tosupply sufficient cream.

But how shall we get the milk? Thereare two ways: the one is first-hand—from the cow; the other is second-hand—from the milkman.

The Seeing EyeSome sage has said: "For a thousand

men who can speak, there is only onewho can think; for a thousand men whocan think, there is only one who cansee." To see and to think is to get yourmilk from your own cow.

When the one man in a million whocan see comes along, we call himMaster. Old Mr. Holbrook, of"Cranford," asked his guest what colorash-buds were in March; she confessedshe did not know, to which the oldgentleman answered: "I knew you didn't.No more did I—an old fool that I am!—till this young man comes and tells me.'Black as ash-buds in March.' And I'velived all my life in the country. Moreshame for me not to know. Black; theyare jet-black, madam."

"This young man" referred to by Mr.Holbrook was Tennyson.

Henry Ward Beecher said: "I do notbelieve that I have ever met a man on thestreet that I did not get from him some

element for a sermon. I never seeanything in nature which does not worktowards that for which I give the strengthof my life. The material for my sermonsis all the time following me andswarming up around me."

Instead of saying only one man in amillion can see, it would strike nearerthe truth to say that none of us sees withperfect understanding more than afraction of what passes before our eyes,yet this faculty of acute and accurateobservation is so important that no manambitious to lead can neglect it. The nexttime you are in a car, look at those whosit opposite you and see what you candiscover of their habits, occupations,ideals, nationalities, environments,

education, and so on. You may not see agreat deal the first time, but practise willreveal astonishing results. Transmuteevery incident of your day into a subjectfor a speech or an illustration. Translateall that you see into terms of speech.When you can describe all that you haveseen in definite words, you are seeingclearly. You are becoming the millionthman.

De Maupassant's description of anauthor should also fit the public-speaker:"His eye is like a suction pump,absorbing everything; like a pickpocket'shand, always at work. Nothing escapeshim. He is constantly collecting material,gathering-up glances, gestures,intentions, everything that goes on in his

presence—the slightest look, the leastact, the merest trifle." De Maupassantwas himself a millionth man, a Master.

"Ruskin took a common rock-crystaland saw hidden within its stolid heartlessons which have not yet ceased tomove men's lives. Beecher stood forhours before the window of a jewelrystore thinking out analogies betweenjewels and the souls of men. Gough sawin a single drop of water enough truthwherewith to quench the thirst of fivethousand souls. Thoreau sat so still inthe shadowy woods that birds andinsects came and opened up their secretlives to his eye. Emerson observed thesoul of a man so long that at length hecould say, 'I cannot hear what you say,

for seeing what you are.' Preyer for threeyears studied the life of his babe and sobecame an authority upon the child mind.Observation! Most men are blind. Thereare a thousand times as many hiddentruths and undiscovered facts about usto-day as have made discoverers famous—facts waiting for some one to 'pluckout the heart of their mystery.' But solong as men go about the search witheyes that see not, so long will thesehidden pearls lie in their shells. Not anorator but who could more effectivelypoint and feather his shafts were he tosearch nature rather than libraries. Toofew can see 'sermons in stones' and'books in the running brooks,' becausethey are so used to seeing merely

sermons in books and only stones inrunning brooks. Sir Philip Sidney had asaying, 'Look in thy heart and write;'Massillon explained his astuteknowledge of the human heart by saying,'I learned it by studying myself;' Byronsays of John Locke that 'all hisknowledge of the human understandingwas derived from studying his ownmind.' Since multiform nature is allabout us, originality ought not to be sorare."[8]

The Thinking MindThinking is doing mental arithmetic

with facts. Add this fact to that and youreach a certain conclusion. Subtract thistruth from another and you have adefinite result. Multiply this fact by

another and have a precise product. Seehow many times this occurrence happensin that space of time and you havereached a calculable dividend. Inthought-processes you perform everyknown problem of arithmetic andalgebra. That is why mathematics aresuch excellent mental gymnastics. But bythe same token, thinking is work.Thinking takes energy. Thinking requirestime, and patience, and broadinformation, and clearheadedness.Beyond a miserable little surface-scratching, few people really think at all—only one in a thousand, according tothe pundit already quoted. So long as thepresent system of education prevails andchildren are taught through the ear rather

than through the eye, so long as they areexpected to remember thoughts of othersrather than think for themselves, thisproportion will continue—one man in amillion will be able to see, and one in athousand to think.

But, however thought-less a mind hasbeen, there is promise of better things sosoon as the mind detects its own lack ofthought-power. The first step is to stopregarding thought as "the magic of themind," to use Byron's expression, andsee it as thought truly is—a weighing ofideas and a placing of them inrelationships to each other. Ponder thisdefinition and see if you have learned tothink efficiently.

Habitual thinking is just that—a habit.

Habit comes of doing a thing repeatedly.The lower habits are acquired easily, thehigher ones require deeper grooves ifthey are to persist. So we find that thethought-habit comes only with resolutepractise; yet no effort will yield richerdividends. Persist in practise, andwhereas you have been able to thinkonly an inch-deep into a subject, youwill soon find that you can penetrate it afoot.

Perhaps this homely metaphor willsuggest how to begin the practise ofconsecutive thinking, by which wemean welding a number of separatethought-links into a chain that willhold. Take one link at a time, see thateach naturally belongs with the ones you

link to it, and remember that a singlemissing link means no chain.

Thinking is the most fascinating andexhilarating of all mental exercises.Once realize that your opinion on asubject does not represent the choice youhave made between what Dr. Cerebrumhas written and Professor Cerebellumhas said, but is the result of your ownearnestly-applied brain-energy, and youwill gain a confidence in your ability tospeak on that subject that nothing will beable to shake. Your thought will havegiven you both power and reservepower.

Someone has condensed the relationof thought to knowledge in these pungent,homely lines:

"Don't give me the man who thinkshe thinks, Don't give me the man whothinks he knows,But give me the man who knows hethinks, And I have the man who knowshe knows!"

Reading As a Stimulus to ThoughtNo matter how dry the cow, however,

nor how poor our ability to milk, there isstill the milkman—we can read whatothers have seen and felt and thought.Often, indeed, such records will kindlewithin us that pre-essential and vitalspark, the desire to be a thinker.

The following selection is taken from

one of Dr. Newell Dwight Hillis'slectures, as given in "A Man's Value toSociety." Dr. Hillis is a most fluentspeaker—he never refers to notes. Hehas reserve power. His mind is averitable treasure-house of facts andideas. See how he draws from aknowledge of fifteen different general orspecial subjects: geology, plant life,Palestine, chemistry, Eskimos,mythology, literature, The Nile, history,law, wit, evolution, religion, biography,and electricity. Surely, it needs no sageto discover that the secret of this man'sreserve power is the old secret of ourartesian well whose abundance surgesfrom unseen depths.

THE USES OF BOOKS ANDREADING[9]

Each Kingsley approaches a stoneas a jeweler approaches a casket tounlock the hidden gems. Geikiecauses the bit of hard coal to unrollthe juicy bud, the thick odorousleaves, the pungent boughs, until thebit of carbon enlarges into thebeauty of a tropic forest. That littlebook of Grant Allen's called "HowPlants Grow" exhibits trees andshrubs as eating, drinking andmarrying. We see certain dategroves in Palestine, and other dategroves in the desert a hundredmiles away, and the pollen of theone carried upon the trade winds to

the branches of the other. We seethe tree with its strange system ofwater-works, pumping the sap upthrough pipes and mains; we see thechemical laboratory in the branchesmixing flavor for the orange in onebough, mixing the juices of thepineapple in another; we behold thetree as a mother making each infantacorn ready against the long winter,rolling it in swaths soft and warmas wool blankets, wrapping itaround with garments impervious tothe rain, and finally slipping theinfant acorn into a sleeping bag,like those the Eskimos gave Dr.Kane.At length we come to feel that the

Greeks were not far wrong inthinking each tree had a dryad in it,animating it, protecting it againstdestruction, dying when the treewithered. Some Faraday shows usthat each drop of water is a sheathfor electric forces sufficient tocharge 800,000 Leyden jars, ordrive an engine from Liverpool toLondon. Some Sir WilliamThomson tells us how hydrogen gaswill chew up a large iron spike as achild's molars will chew off theend of a stick of candy. Thus eachnew book opens up some new andhitherto unexplored realm of nature.Thus books fulfill for us the legendof the wondrous glass that showed

its owner all things distant and allthings hidden. Through books ourworld becomes as "a bud from thebower of God's beauty; the sun as aspark from the light of His wisdom;the sky as a bubble on the sea ofHis Power." Therefore Mrs.Browning's words, "No child canbe called fatherless who has Godand his mother; no youth can becalled friendless who has God andthe companionship of good books."Books also advantage us in thatthey exhibit the unity of progress,the solidarity of the race, and thecontinuity of history. Authors leadus back along the pathway of law,of liberty or religion, and set us

down in front of the great man inwhose brain the principle had itsrise. As the discoverer leads usfrom the mouth of the Nile back tothe headwaters of Nyanza, so booksexhibit great ideas and institutions,as they move forward, everwidening and deepening, like someNile feeding many civilizations.For all the reforms of to-day goback to some reform of yesterday.Man's art goes back to Athens andThebes. Man's laws go back toBlackstone and Justinian. Man'sreapers and plows go back to thesavage scratching the ground withhis forked stick, drawn by the wildbullock. The heroes of liberty

march forward in a solid column.Lincoln grasps the hand ofWashington. Washington receivedhis weapons at the hands ofHampden and Cromwell. The greatPuritans lock hands with Luther andSavonarola.The unbroken procession brings usat length to Him whose Sermon onthe Mount was the very charter ofliberty. It puts us under a divinespell to perceive that we are allcoworkers with the great men, andyet single threads in the warp andwoof of civilization. And whenbooks have related us to our ownage, and related all the epochs toGod, whose providence is the gulf

stream of history, these teachers goon to stimulate us to new andgreater achievements. Alone, manis an unlighted candle. The mindneeds some book to kindle itsfaculties. Before Byron began towrite he used to give half an hour toreading some favorite passage. Thethought of some great writer neverfailed to kindle Byron into acreative glow, even as a matchlights the kindlings upon the grate.In these burning, luminous moodsByron's mind did its best work. Thetrue book stimulates the mind as nowine can ever quicken the blood. Itis reading that brings us to our best,and rouses each faculty to its most

vigorous life.

We recognize this as pure cream, andif it seems at first to have its secondarysource in the friendly milkman, let us notforget that the theme is "The Uses ofBooks and Reading." Dr. Hillis bothsees and thinks.

It is fashionable just now to decry thevalue of reading. We read, we are told,to avoid the necessity of thinking forourselves. Books are for the mentallylazy.

Though this is only a half-truth, theelement of truth it contains is largeenough to make us pause. Put yourselfthrough a good old Presbyterian soul-searching self-examination, and if

reading-from-thought-laziness is one ofyour sins, confess it. No one can shriveyou of it—but yourself. Do penance forit by using your own brains, for it is atransgression that dwarfs the growth ofthought and destroys mental freedom. Atfirst the penance will be trying—but atthe last you will be glad in it.

Reading should entertain, giveinformation, or stimulate thought. Here,however, we are chiefly concerned withinformation, and stimulation of thought.

What shall I read for information?The ample page of knowledge, as

Grey tells us, is "rich with the spoils oftime," and these are ours for the price ofa theatre ticket. You may commandSocrates and Marcus Aurelius to sit

beside you and discourse of theirchoicest, hear Lincoln at Gettysburg andPericles at Athens, storm the Bastilewith Hugo, and wander through Paradisewith Dante. You may explore darkestAfrica with Stanley, penetrate the humanheart with Shakespeare, chat withCarlyle about heroes, and delve with theApostle Paul into the mysteries of faith.The general knowledge and the inspiringideas that men have collected throughages of toil and experiment are yours forthe asking. The Sage of Chelsea wasright: "The true university of these daysis a collection of books."

To master a worth-while book is tomaster much else besides; few of us,however, make perfect conquest of a

volume without first owning itphysically. To read a borrowed bookmay be a joy, but to assign your ownbook a place of its own on your ownshelves—be they few or many—to lovethe book and feel of its worn cover, tothumb it over slowly, page by page, topencil its margins in agreement or inprotest, to smile or thrill withi t s remembered pungencies—no merebook borrower could ever sense all thatdelight.

The reader who possesses books inthis double sense finds also that hisbooks possess him, and the volumeswhich most firmly grip his life are likelyto be those it has cost him some sacrificeto own. These lightly-come-by titles,

which Mr. Fatpurse selects, perhaps byproxy, can scarcely play the guide,philosopher and friend in crucialmoments as do the books—long coveted,joyously attained—that are welcomedinto the lives, and not merely thelibraries, of us others who are at oncepoorer and richer.

So it is scarcely too much to say thatof all the many ways in which an owned—a mastered—book is like to a humanfriend, the truest ways are these: Afriend is worth making sacrifices for,both to gain and to keep; and our lovesgo out most dearly to those into whoseinmost lives we have sincerely entered.

When you have not the advantage ofthe test of time by which to judge books,

investigate as thoroughly as possible theauthority of the books you read. Muchthat is printed and passes current iscounterfeit. "I read it in a book" is tomany a sufficient warranty of truth, butnot to the thinker. "What book?" asks thecareful mind. "Who wrote it? What doeshe know about the subject and what righthas he to speak on it? Who recognizeshim as authority? With what otherrecognized authorities does he agree ordisagree?" Being caught trying to passcounterfeit money, even unintentionally,is an unpleasant situation. Beware lestyou circulate spurious coin.

Above all, seek reading that makesyou use your own brains. Such readingmust be alive with fresh points of view,

packed with special knowledge, anddeal with subjects of vital interest. Donot confine your reading to what youalready know you will agree with.Opposition wakes one up. The otherroad may be the better, but you willnever know it unless you "give it theonce over." Do not do all your thinkingand investigating in front of given"Q.E.D.'s;" merely assembling reasonsto fill in between your theorem and whatyou want to prove will get you nowhere.Approach each subject with an openmind and—once sure that you havethought it out thoroughly and honestly—have the courage to abide by thedecision of your own thought. But don'tbrag about it afterward.

No book on public speaking willenable you to discourse on the tariff ifyou know nothing about the tariff.Knowing more about it than the otherman will be your only hope for makingthe other man listen to you.

Take a group of men discussing agovernmental policy of which some onesays: "It is socialistic." That willcommend the policy to Mr. A., whobelieves in socialism, but condemn it toMr. B., who does not. It may be thatneither had considered the policybeyond noticing that its surface-colorwas socialistic. The chances are,furthermore, that neither Mr. A. nor Mr.B. has a definite idea of what socialismreally is, for as Robert Louis Stevenson

says, "Man lives not by bread alone butchiefly by catch words." If you are ofthis group of men, and have observedthis proposed government policy, andinvestigated it, and thought about it, whatyou have to say cannot fail to commandtheir respect and approval, for you willhave shown them that you possess agrasp of your subject and—to adopt anexceedingly expressive bit of slang—then some.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Robert Houdin trained his son to

give one swift glance at a shop windowin passing and be able to reportaccurately a surprising number of its

contents. Try this several times ondifferent windows and report the result.

2. What effect does reserve powerhave on an audience?

3. What are the best methods foracquiring reserve power?

4. What is the danger of too muchreading?

5. Analyze some speech that you haveread or heard and notice how much realinformation there is in it. Compare itwith Dr. Hillis's speech on "Brave LittleBelgium," page 394

6. Write out a three-minute speech onany subject you choose. How muchinformation, and what new ideas, does itcontain? Compare your speech with theextract on page 191 from Dr. Hillis's

"The Uses of Books and Reading."7. Have you ever read a book on the

practise of thinking? If so, give yourimpressions of its value.

NOTE: There are a number ofexcellent books on the subject of thoughtand the management of thought. Thefollowing are recommended as beingespecially helpful: "Thinking andLearning to Think," Nathan C. Schaeffer;"Talks to Students on the Art of Study,"Cramer; "As a Man Thinketh," Allen.

8. Define (a) logic; (b) mentalphilosophy (or mental science); (c)psychology; (d) abstract.

18ChapterSUBJECT ANDPREPARATION

Suit your topics to yourstrength,And ponder well your subject, andits length;Nor lift your load, before you'requite awareWhat weight your shoulders will,

or will not, bear.—Byron, Hints from Horace.

Look to this day, for it is life—thevery life of life. In its brief courselie all the verities and realities ofyour existence: the bliss of growth,the glory of action, the splendor ofbeauty. For yesterday is already adream and tomorrow is only avision; but today, well lived, makesevery yesterday a dream ofhappiness and every tomorrow avision of hope. Look well,therefore, to this day. Such is thesalutation of the dawn.

—From the Sanskrit.

In the chapter preceding we have seen

the influence of "Thought and ReservePower" on general preparedness forpublic speech. But preparation consistsin something more definite than thecultivation of thought-power, whetherfrom original or from borrowed sources—it involves a specifically acquisitiveattitude of the whole life. If you wouldbecome a full soul you must constantlytake in and assimilate, for in that wayonly may you hope to give out that whichis worth the hearing; but do not confusethe acquisition of general informationwith the mastery of specific knowledge.Information consists of a fact or a groupof facts; knowledgei s organizedinformation—knowledgeknows a fact in relation to other facts.

Now the important thing here is thatyou should set all your faculties to takein the things about you with theparticular object of correlating them andstoring them for use in public speech.You must hear with the speaker's ear,see with the speaker's eye, and choosebooks and companions and sights andsounds with the speaker's purpose inview. At the same time, be ready toreceive unplanned-for knowledge. Oneof the fascinating elements in your life asa public speaker will be the consciousgrowth in power that casual dailyexperiences bring. If your eyes are alertyou will be constantly discovering facts,illustrations, and ideas without havingset out in search of them. These all may

be turned to account on the platform;even the leaden events of hum-drumdaily life may be melted into bullets forfuture battles.

Conservation of Time in PreparationBut, you say, I have so little time for

preparation—my mind must be absorbedby other matters. Daniel Webster neverlet an opportunity pass to gather materialfor his speeches. When he was a boyworking in a sawmill he read out of abook in one hand and busied himself atsome mechanical task with the other. Inyouth Patrick Henry roamed the fieldsand woods in solitude for days at a timeunconsciously gathering material andimpressions for his later service as aspeaker. Dr. Russell H. Conwell, the

man who, the late Charles A. Dana said,had addressed more hearers than anyliving man, used to memorize longpassages from Milton while tending theboiling syrup-pans in the silent NewEngland woods at night. The modernemployer would discharge a Webster oftoday for inattention to duty, anddoubtless he would be justified, andPatrick Henry seemed only an idle chapeven in those easy-going days; but thetruth remains: those who take in powerand have the purpose to use it efficientlywill some day win to the place in whichthat stored-up power will revolve greatwheels of influence.

Napoleon said that quarter hoursdecide the destinies of nations. How

many quarter hours do we let drift byaimlessly! Robert Louis Stevensonconserved all his time; every experiencebecame capital for his work—for capitalmay be defined as "the results of laborstored up to assist future production." Hecontinually tried to put into suitablelanguage the scenes and actions thatwere in evidence about him. Emersonsays: "Tomorrow will be like today.Life wastes itself whilst we arepreparing to live."

Why wait for a more convenientseason for this broad, generalpreparation? The fifteen minutes that wespend on the car could be profitablyturned into speech-capital.

Procure a cheap edition of modern

speeches, and by cutting out a few pageseach day, and reading them during theidle minute here and there, note howsoon you can make yourself familiarwith the world's best speeches. If you donot wish to mutilate your book, take itwith you—most of the epoch-makingbooks are now printed in small volumes.The daily waste of natural gas in theOklahoma fields is equal to ten thousandtons of coal. Only about three per cent ofthe power of the coal that enters thefurnace ever diffuses itself from yourelectric bulb as light—the other ninety-seven per cent is wasted. Yet thesewastes are no larger, nor more to belamented than the tremendous waste oftime which, if conserved would increase

the speaker's powers to their nth degree.Scientists are making three ears of corngrow where one grew before; efficiencyengineers are eliminating uselessmotions and products from our factories:catch the spirit of the age and applyefficiency to the use of the most valuableasset you possess—time. What do youdo mentally with the time you spend indressing or in shaving? Take somesubject and concentrate your energies onit for a week by utilizing just the sparemoments that would otherwise bewasted. You will be amazed at theresult. One passage a day from the Bookof Books, one golden ingot from somemaster mind, one fully-possessed thoughtof your own might thus be added to the

treasury of your life. Do not waste yourtime in ways that profit you nothing. Fill"the unforgiving minute" with "sixtyseconds' worth of distance run" and onthe platform you will be immeasurablythe gainer.

Let no word of this, however, seem todecry the value of recreation. Nothing ismore vital to a worker than rest—yetnothing is so vitiating to the shirker. Besure that your recreation re-creates. Apause in the midst of labors gathersstrength for new effort. The mistake is topause too long, or to fill your pauseswith ideas that make life flabby.

Choosing a SubjectSubject and materials tremendously

influence each other.

"This arises from the fact that thereare two distinct ways in which a subjectmay be chosen: by arbitrary choice, orby development from thought andreading.

"Arbitrary choice … of one subjectfrom among a number involves so manyimportant considerations that no speakerever fails to appreciate the tone ofsatisfaction in him who triumphantlyannounces: 'I have a subject!'

"'Do give me a subject!' How oftenthe weary school teacher hears that cry.Then a list of themes is suggested, goneover, considered, and, in most instances,rejected, because the teacher can knowbut imperfectly what is in the pupil'smind. To suggest a subject in this way is

like trying to discover the street onwhich a lost child lives, by naming overa number of streets until one strikes thelittle one's ear as sounding familiar.

"Choice by development is a verydifferent process. It does not ask, Whatshall I say? It turns the mind in uponitself and asks, What do I think? Thus,the subject may be said to choose itself,for in the process of thought or ofreading one theme rises into prominenceand becomes a living germ, soon togrow into the discourse. He who has notlearned to reflect is not reallyacquainted with his own thoughts; hence,his thoughts are not productive. Habitsof reading and reflection will supply thespeaker's mind with an abundance of

subjects of which he already knowssomething from the very reading andreflection which gave birth to his theme.This is not a paradox, but sober truth.

"It must be already apparent that thechoice of a subject by developmentsavors more of collection than ofconscious selection. The subject 'popsinto the mind.' … In the intellect of thetrained thinker it concentrates—by aprocess which we have seen to beinduction—the facts and truths of whichhe has been reading and thinking. This ismost often a gradual process. Thescattered ideas may be but vaguelyconnected at first, but more and morethey concentrate and take on a singleform until at length one strong idea

seems to grasp the soul with irresistibleforce, and to cry aloud, 'Arise, I amy o u r theme! Henceforth, until youtransmute me by the alchemy of yourinward fire into vital speech, you shallknow no rest!' Happy, then, is thatspeaker, for he has found a subject thatgrips him.

"Of course, experienced speakers useboth methods of selection. Even areading and reflective man is sometimescompelled to hunt for a theme from Danto Beersheba, and then the task ofgathering materials becomes a seriousone. But even in such a case there is asense in which the selection comes bydevelopment, because no carefulspeaker settles upon a theme which does

not represent at least some maturedthought."[10]

Deciding on the Subject MatterEven when your theme has been

chosen for you by someone else, thereremains to you a considerable field forchoice of subject matter. The sameconsiderations, in fact, that wouldgovern you in choosing a theme mustguide in the selection of the material.Ask yourself—or someone else—suchquestions as these:

What is the precise nature of theoccasion? How large an audience maybe expected? From what walks of life dothey come? What is their probableattitude toward the theme? Who elsewill speak? Do I speak first, last, or

where, on the program? What are theother speakers going to talk about? Whatis the nature of the auditorium? Is there adesk? Could the subject be moreeffectively handled if somewhatmodified? Precisely how much time am Ito fill?

It is evident that many speech-misfitsof subject, speaker, occasion and placeare due to failure to ask just suchpertinent questions.What should be said,b y whom, and in what circumstances,constitute ninety per cent of efficiency inpublic address. No matter who asks you,refuse to be a square peg in a roundhole.

Questions of ProportionProportion in a speech is attained by a

nice adjustment of time. How fully youmay treat your subject it is not alwaysfor you to say. Let ten minutes meanneither nine nor eleven—though betternine than eleven, at all events. Youwouldn't steal a man's watch; no moreshould you steal the time of thesucceeding speaker, or that of theaudience. There is no need to oversteptime-limits if you make your preparationadequate and divide your subject so asto give each thought its due proportion ofattention—and no more. Blessed is theman that maketh short speeches, for heshall be invited to speak again.

Another matter of prime importanceis, what part of your address demandsthe most emphasis. This once decided,

you will know where to place thatpivotal section so as to give it thegreatest strategic value, and what degreeof preparation must be given to thatcentral thought so that the vital part maynot be submerged by non-essentials.Many a speaker has awakened to findthat he has burnt up eight minutes of aten-minute speech in merely getting upsteam. That is like spending eightypercent of your building-money on thevestibule of the house.

The same sense of proportion musttell you to stop precisely when you arethrough—and it is to be hoped that youwill discover the arrival of that periodbefore your audience does.

Tapping Original Sources

The surest way to give life to speech-material is to gather your facts at firsthand. Your words come with the weightof authority when you can say, "I haveexamined the employment rolls of everymill in this district and find that thirty-two per cent of the children employedare under the legal age." No citation ofauthorities can equal that. You mustadopt the methods of the reporter andfind out the facts underlying yourargument or appeal. To do so may provelaborious, but it should not be irksome,for the great world of fact teems withinterest, and over and above all is thesense of power that will come to youfrom original investigation. To see andfeel the facts you are discussing will

react upon you much more powerfullythan if you were to secure the facts atsecond hand.

Live an active life among people whoare doing worth-while things, keep eyesand ears and mind and heart open toabsorb truth, and then tell of the thingsyou know, as if you know them. Theworld will listen, for the world lovesnothing so much as real life.

How to Use a LibraryUnsuspected treasures lie in the

smallest library. Even when the ownerhas read every last page of his books itis only in rare instances that he has fullindexes to all of them, either in his mindor on paper, so as to make available thevast number of varied subjects touched

upon or treated in volumes whose titleswould never suggest such topics.

For this reason it is a good thing totake an odd hour now and then tobrowse. Take down one volume afteranother and look over its table ofcontents and its index. (It is a reproachto any author of a serious book not tohave provided a full index, with crossreferences.) Then glance over the pages,making notes, mental or physical, ofmaterial that looks interesting andusable. Most libraries contain volumesthat the owner is "going to read someday." A familiarity with even thecontents of such books on your ownshelves will enable you to refer to themwhen you want help. Writings read long

ago should be treated in the same way—in every chapter some surprise lurks todelight you.

In looking up a subject do not bediscouraged if you do not find it indexedor outlined in the table of contents—youare pretty sure to discover some materialunder a related title.

Suppose you set to work somewhat inthis way to gather references on"Thinking:" First you look over yourbook titles, and there is Schaeffer's"Thinking and Learning to Think." Nearit is Kramer's "Talks to Students on theArt of Study"—that seems likely toprovide some material, and it does.Naturally you think next of your book onpsychology, and there is help there. If

you have a volume on the human intellectyou will have already turned to it.Suddenly you remember yourencyclopedia and your dictionary ofquotations—and now material fairlyrains upon you; the problem iswhat not to use. In the encyclopedia youturn to every reference that includes ortouches or even suggests "thinking;" andin the dictionary of quotations you do thesame. The latter volume you findpeculiarly helpful because it suggestsseveral volumes to you that are on yourown shelves—you never would havethought to look in them for references onthis subject. Even fiction will supplyhelp, but especially books of essays andbiography. Be aware of your own

resources.To make a general index to your

library does away with the necessity forindexing individual volumes that are notalready indexed.

To begin with, keep a note-book byyou; or small cards and paper cuttings inyour pocket and on your desk will serveas well. The same note-book thatrecords the impressions of your ownexperiences and thoughts will beenriched by the ideas of others.

To be sure, this note-book habitmeans labor, but remember that morespeeches have been spoiled byhalf-hearted preparation than by lack oftalent. Laziness is an own-brother toOver-confidence, and both are your

inveterate enemies, though they pretendto be soothing friends.

Conserve your material by indexingevery good idea on cards, thus:

Socialism

Progress of S., Env. 16

S. a fallacy, 96/210

General article on S., Howells', Dec.1913

"Socialism and the Franchise,"Forbes

"Socialism in Ancient Life," OriginalMs.,

Env. 102

On the card illustrated above,clippings are indexed by giving the

number of the envelope in which theyare filed. The envelopes may be of anysize desired and kept in any convenientreceptacle. On the foregoing example,"Progress of S., Envelope 16," willrepresent a clipping, filed in Envelope16, which is, of course, numberedarbitrarily.

The fractions refer to books in yourlibrary—the numerator being the book-number, the denominator referring to thepage. Thus, "S. a fallacy, 96/210," refersto page 210 of volume 96 in yourlibrary. By some arbitrary sign—say redink—you may even index a reference ina public library book.

If you preserve your magazines,important articles may be indexed by

month and year. An entire volume ona subject may be indicated like theimaginary book by "Forbes." If you clipthe articles, it is better to index themaccording to the envelope system.

Your own writings and notes may befiled in envelopes with the clippings orin a separate series.

Another good indexing systemcombines the library index with the"scrap," or clipping, system by makingthe outside of the envelope serve thesame purpose as the card for theindexing of books, magazines, clippingsand manuscripts, the latter two classesof material being enclosed in theenvelopes that index them, and all filedalphabetically.

When your cards accumulate so as tomake ready reference difficult under asingle alphabet, you may subdivide eachletter by subordinate guide cards markedby the vowels, A, E, I, O, U. Thus,"Antiquities" would be filed under i inA, because A begins the word, and thesecond letter, n, comes after thevowel i in the alphabet, but before o. Inthe same manner, "Beecher" would befiled under e in B; and "Hydrogen"would come under u in H.

Outlining the AddressNo one can advise you how to

prepare the notes for an address. Somespeakers get the best results whilewalking out and ruminating, jotting downnotes as they pause in their walk. Others

never put pen to paper until the wholespeech has been thought out. The greatmajority, however, will take notes,classify their notes, write a hasty firstdraft, and then revise the speech. Tryeach of these methods and choose theone that is best—for you. Do not allowany man to force you to work in his way;but do not neglect to consider his way,for it may be better than your own.

For those who make notes and withtheir aid write out the speech, thesesuggestions may prove helpful:

After having read and thought enough,classify your notes by setting down thebig, central thoughts of your material onseparate cards or slips of paper. Thesewill stand in the same relation to your

subject as chapters do to a book.Then arrange these main ideas or

heads in such an order that they will leadeffectively to the result you have inmind, so that the speech may rise inargument, in interest, in power, by pilingone fact or appeal upon another until theclimax—the highest point of influence onyour audience—has been reached.

Next group all your ideas, facts,anecdotes, and illustrations under theforegoing main heads, each where itnaturally belongs.

You now have a skeleton or outline ofyour address that in its polished formmight serve either as the brief, ormanuscript notes, for the speech or asthe guide-outline which you will expand

into the written address, if written it is tobe.

Imagine each of the main ideas in thebrief on page 213 as being separate; thenpicture your mind as sorting them outand placing them in order; finally,conceive of how you would fill in thefacts and examples under each head,giving special prominence to those youwish to emphasize and subduing those ofless moment. In the end, you have theoutline complete. The simplest form ofoutline—not very suitable for use on theplatform, however—is the following:

WHY PROSPERITY IS COMINGWhat prosperity means.—The real

tests of prosperity.—Its basis in the soil.—American agricultural progress.—

New interest in farming.—Enormousvalue of our agricultural products.—Reciprocal effect on trade.—Foreigncountries affected.—Effects of our newinternal economy—the regulation ofbanking and "big business"—onprosperity.—Effects of our revisedattitude toward foreign markets,including our merchant marine.—Summary.

Obviously, this very simple outline iscapable of considerable expansion undereach head by the addition of facts,arguments, inferences and examples.

Here is an outline arranged with moreregard for argument:

FOREIGN IMMIGRATION

SHOULD BE RESTRICTED[11]

I. Fact As Cause: Many immigrantsare practically paupers. (Proofsinvolving statistics or statements ofauthorities.)II. Fact As Effect: They sooner orlater fill our alms-houses andbecome public charges. (Proofsinvolving statistics or statements ofauthorities.)III. Fact As Cause: Some of themare criminals. (Examples of recentcases.)IV. Fact As Effect: They reënforcethe criminal classes. (Effects on ourcivic life.)V. Fact As Cause: Many of themknow nothing of the duties of free

citizenship. (Examples.)VI.Fact As Effect: Such immigrantsrecruit the worst element in ourpolitics. (Proofs.)

A more highly ordered grouping oftopics and subtopics is shown in thefollowing:

OURS A CHRISTIAN NATION

I. Introduction: Why the subject istimely. Influences operative againstthis contention today.II. CHRISTIANITY PRESIDEDOVER THE EARLY HISTORY OFAMERICA. 1. First practical discovery by aChristian explorer. Columbusworshiped God on the new soil.

2. The Cavaliers. 3. The French Catholic settlers. 4. The Huguenots. 5. The Puritans.III. The Birth Of Our Nation WasUnder Christian Auspices. 1. Christian character ofWashington. 2. Other Christian patriots. 3. The Church in ourRevolutionary struggle.Muhlenberg.IV. OUR LATER HISTORY HASONLY EMPHASIZED OURNATIONAL ATTITUDE.Examples of dealings with foreignnations show Christianmagnanimity. Returning the Chinese

Indemnity; fostering the Red Cross;attitude toward Belgium.V. OUR GOVERNMENTALFORMS AND MANY OF OURLAWS ARE OF A CHRISTIANTEMPER. 1. The use of the Bible in publicways, oaths, etc. 2. The Bible in our schools. 3. Christian chaplains minister toour law-making bodies, to ourarmy, and to our navy. 4. The Christian Sabbath isofficially and generally recognized. 5. The Christian family and theChristian system of morality are atthe basis of our laws.VI. THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE

TESTIFIES OF THE POWER OFCHRISTIANITY. Charities,education, etc., have Christian tone.VII. Other Nations Regard Us As aChristian People.VIII. Conclusion: The attitudewhich may reasonably be expectedof all good citizens towardquestions touching the preservationof our standing as a Christiannation.

Writing and RevisionAfter the outline has been perfected

comes the time to write the speech, ifwrite it you must. Then, whatever youdo, write it at white heat, withnot too much thought of anything but the

strong, appealing expression of yourideas.

The final stage is the paring down, there-vision—the seeing again, as the wordimplies—when all the parts of thespeech must be impartially scrutinizedfor clearness, precision, force,effectiveness, suitability, proportion,logical climax; and in all this youmustimagine yourself to be before youraudience, for a speech is not an essayand what will convince and arouse in theone will not prevail in the other.

The TitleOften last of all will come that which

in a sense is first of all—the title, thename by which the speech is known.Sometimes it will be the simple theme of

the address, as "The NewAmericanism," by Henry Watterson; or itmay be a bit of symbolism typifying thespirit of the address, as "Acres ofDiamonds," by Russell H. Conwell; or itmay be a fine phrase taken from the bodyof the address, as "Pass ProsperityAround," by Albert J. Beveridge. All inall, from whatever motive it be chosen,let the title be fresh, short, suited to thesubject, and likely to excite interest.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Define (a) introduction; (b) climax;

(c) peroration.2. If a thirty-minute speech would

require three hours for specific

preparation, would you expect to be ableto do equal justice to a speech one-thirdas long in one-third the time forpreparation? Give reasons.

3. Relate briefly any personalexperience you may have had inconserving time for reading and thought.

4. In the manner of a reporter orinvestigator, go out and get first-handinformation on some subject of interestto the public. Arrange the results of yourresearch in the form of an outline, orbrief.

5. From a private or a public librarygather enough authoritative material onone of the following questions to buildan outline for a twenty-minute address.Take one definite side of the question,

(a) "The Housing of the Poor;" (b) "TheCommission Form of Government forCities as a Remedy for Political Graft;"(c) "The Test of Woman's Suffrage in theWest;" (d) "Present Trends of PublicTaste in Reading;" (e) "Municipal Art;"(f) "Is the Theatre Becoming moreElevated in Tone?" (g) "The Effects ofthe Magazine on Literature;" (h) "DoesModern Life Destroy Ideals?" (i) "IsCompetition 'the Life of Trade?'" (j)"Baseball is too Absorbing to be aWholesome National Game;" (k)"Summer Baseball and AmateurStanding;" (l) "Does College TrainingUnfit a Woman for Domestic Life?" (m)"Does Woman's Competition with Manin Business Dull the Spirit of Chivalry?"

(n) "Are Elective Studies Suited to HighSchool Courses?" (o) "Does the ModernCollege Prepare Men for PreeminentLeadership?" (p) "The Y.M.C.A. in ItsRelation to the Labor Problem;" (q)"Public Speaking as Training inCitizenship."

6. Construct the outline, examining itcarefully for interest, convincingcharacter, proportion, and climax ofarrangement.

NOTE:—This exercise should berepeated until the student shows facilityin synthetic arrangement.

7. Deliver the address, if possiblebefore an audience.

8. Make a three-hundred word reporton the results, as best you are able to

estimate them.9. Tell something of the benefits of

using a periodical (or cumulative) index.10. Give a number of quotations,

suitable for a speaker's use, that youhave memorized in off moments.

11. In the manner of the outline onpage 213, analyze the address on pages78-79, "The History of Liberty."

12. Give an outline analysis, fromnotes or memory, of an address orsermon to which you have listened forthis purpose.

13. Criticise the address from astructural point of view.

14. Invent titles for any five of thethemes in Exercise 5.

15. Criticise the titles of any five

chapters of this book, suggesting betterones.

16. Criticise the title of any lecture oraddress of which you know.

19ChapterINFLUENCING BYEXPOSITION

Speak not at all, in any wise, tillyou have somewhat to speak; carenot for the reward of your speaking,but simply and with undivided mindfor the truth of your speaking.

—Thomas Carlyle, Essayon Biography.

A complete discussion of therhetorical structure of public speechesrequires a fuller treatise than can beundertaken in a work of this nature, yetin this chapter, and in the succeedingones on "Description," "Narration,""Argument," and "Pleading," theunderlying principles are given andexplained as fully as need be for aworking knowledge, and adequate bookreferences are given for those whowould perfect themselves in rhetoricalart.

The Nature of ExpositionIn the word "expose"—to lay bare, to

uncover, to show the true inwardnessof—we see the foundation-idea of"Exposition." It is the clear and precise

setting forth of what the subject really is—it is explanation.

Exposition does not draw a picture,for that would be description. To tell inexact terms what the automobile is, toname its characteristic parts and explaintheir workings, would be exposition; sowould an explanation of the nature of"fear." But to create a mental image of aparticular automobile, with its glisteningbody, graceful lines, and great speed,would be description; and so would apicturing of fear acting on the emotionsof a child at night. Exposition anddescription often intermingle andoverlap, but fundamentally they aredistinct. Their differences will betouched upon again in the chapter on

"Description."Exposition furthermore does not

include an account of how eventshappened—that is narration. When Pearylectured on his polar discoveries heexplained the instruments used fordetermining latitude and longitude—thatwas exposition. In picturing hisequipment he used description. In tellingof his adventures day by day heemployed narration. In supporting someof his contentions he used argument. Yethe mingled all these forms throughout thelecture.

Neither does exposition deal withreasons and inferences—that is the fieldof argument. A series of connectedstatements intended to convince a

prospective buyer that one automobile isbetter than another, or proofs that theappeal to fear is a wrong method ofdiscipline, would not be exposition. Theplain facts as set forth in expositoryspeaking or writing are nearly alwaysthe basis of argument, yet the processesare not one. True, the statement of asingle significant fact without theaddition of one other word may beconvincing, but a moment's thought willshow that the inference, whichcompletes a chain of reasoning, is madein the mind of the hearer andpresupposes other facts held inconsideration.[12]

In like manner, it is obvious that thefield of persuasion is not open to

exposition, for exposition is entirely anintellectual process, with no emotionalelement.

The Importance of ExpositionThe importance of exposition in

public speech is precisely theimportance of setting forth a matter soplainly that it cannot be misunderstood.

"To master the process ofexposition is to become a clearthinker. 'I know, when you do notask me,'[13] replied a gentlemanupon being requested to define ahighly complex idea. Now somelarge concepts defy explicitdefinition; but no mind should takerefuge behind such exceptions, for

where definition fails, other formssucceed. Sometimes we feelconfident that we have perfectmastery of an idea, but when thetime comes to express it, theclearness becomes a haze.Exposition, then, is the test of clearunderstanding. To speak effectivelyyou must be able to see yoursubject clearly andcomprehensively, and to make youraudience see it as you do."[14]

There are pitfalls on both sides of thispath. To explain too little will leaveyour audience in doubt as to what youmean. It is useless to argue a question ifit is not perfectly clear just what is

meant by the question. Have you nevercome to a blind lane in conversation byfinding that you were talking of oneaspect of a matter while your friend wasthinking of another? If two do not agreein their definitions of a Musician, it isuseless to dispute over a certain man'sright to claim the title.

On the other side of the path lies theabyss of tediously explaining too much.That offends because it impresses thehearers that you either do not respecttheir intelligence or are trying to blow abreeze into a tornado. Carefully estimatethe probable knowledge of youraudience, both in general and of theparticular point you are explaining. Intrying to simplify, it is fatal to "sillify."

To explain more than is needed for thepurposes of your argument or appeal isto waste energy all around. In yourefforts to be explicit do not pressexposition to the extent of dulness—theconfines are not far distant and you mayarrive before you know it.

Some Purposes of ExpositionFrom what has been said it ought to be

clear that, primarily, exposition weavesa cord of understanding between you andyour audience. It lays, furthermore, afoundation of fact on which to build laterstatements, arguments, and appeals. Inscientific and purely "information"speeches exposition may exist by itselfand for itself, as in a lecture on biology,or on psychology; but in the vast

majority of cases it is used toaccompany and prepare the way for theother forms of discourse.

Clearness, precision, accuracy, unity,truth, and necessity—these must bethe constant standards by which you testthe efficiency of your expositions, and,indeed, that of every explanatorystatement. This dictum should be writtenon your brain in letters most plain. Andlet this apply not alone tothe purposes of exposition but in equalmeasure to your use of the

Methods of ExpositionThe various ways along which a

speaker may proceed in exposition arelikely to touch each other now andthen, and even when they do not meet

and actually overlap they run so nearlyparallel that the roads are sometimesdistinct rather in theory than in any morepractical respect.

Definition, the primary expositorymethod, is a statement of preciselimits.[15] Obviously, here the greatestcare must be exercised that the terms ofdefinition should not themselves demandtoo much definition; that the languageshould be concise and clear; and that thedefinition should neither exclude norinclude too much. The following is asimple example:

To expound is to set forth thenature, the significance, thecharacteristics, and the bearing of

an idea or a group of ideas.—Arlo Bates, Talks on Writing

English.

Contrast and Antithesis are oftenused effectively to amplify definition, asin this sentence, which immediatelyfollows the above-cited definition:

Exposition therefore differs fromDescription in that it deals directly withthe meaning or intent of its subjectinstead of with its appearance.

This antithesis forms an expansion ofthe definition, and as such it might havebeen still further extended. In fact, this isa frequent practise in public speech,where the minds of the hearers often askfor reiteration and expanded statement to

help them grasp a subject in its severalaspects. This is the very heart ofexposition—to amplify and clarify allthe terms by which a matter is defined.

Example is another method ofamplifying a definition or of expoundingan idea more fully. The followingsentences immediately succeed Mr.Bates's definition and contrast justquoted:

A good deal which we areaccustomed inexactly to calldescription is really exposition.Suppose that your small boy wishesto know how an engine works, andshould say: "Please describe thesteam-engine to me." If you insist

on taking his words literally—andare willing to run the risk of hisindignation at being wilfullymisunderstood—you will to thebest of your ability picture to himthis familiarly wonderful machine.If you explain it to him, you are notdescribing but expounding it.

The chief value of example is that itmakes clear the unknown by referring themind to the known. Readiness of mind tomake illuminating, apt comparisons forthe sake of clearness is one of thespeaker's chief resources on the platform—it is the greatest of all teaching gifts. Itis a gift, moreover, that responds tocultivation. Read the three extracts from

Arlo Bates as their author deliveredthem, as one passage, and see how theymelt into one, each part supplementingthe other most helpfully.

Analogy, which calls attention tosimilar relationships in objects nototherwise similar, is one of the mostuseful methods of exposition. Thefollowing striking specimen is fromBeecher's Liverpool speech:

A savage is a man of one story, andthat one story a cellar. When a manbegins to be civilized he raisesanother story. When youchristianize and civilize the man,you put story upon story, for youdevelop faculty after faculty; and

you have to supply every story withyour productions.

Discarding is a less common form ofplatform explanation. It consists inclearing away associated ideas so thatthe attention may be centered on the mainthought to be discussed. Really, it is anegative factor in exposition though amost important one, for it is fundamentalto the consideration of an intricatelyrelated matter that subordinate and sidequestions should be set aside in order tobring out the main issue. Here is anexample of the method:

I cannot allow myself to be ledaside from the only issue before

this jury. It is not pertinent toconsider that this prisoner is thehusband of a heartbroken womanand that his babes will go throughthe world under the shadow of thelaw's extremest penalty workedupon their father. We must forgetthe venerable father and the motherwhom Heaven in pity took beforeshe learned of her son's disgrace.What have these matters of heart,what have the blenched faces of hisfriends, what have the prisoner'slong and honorable career to saybefore this bar when you are swornto weigh only the direct evidencebefore you? The one and onlyquestion for you to decide on the

evidence is whether this man didwith revengeful intent commit themurder that every impartial witnesshas solemnly laid at his door.

Classification assigns a subject to itsclass. By an allowable extension of thedefinition it may be said to assign it alsoto its order, genus, and species.Classification is useful in public speechin narrowing the issue to a desiredphase. It is equally valuable for showinga thing in its relation to other things, orin correlation. Classification is closelyakin to Definition and Division.

This question of the liquor traffic,sirs, takes its place beside the

grave moral issues of all times.Whatever be itseconomic significance—and who isthere to question it—whatever vitalbearing it has upon our politicalsystem—and is there one who willdeny it?—the question of thelicensed saloon must quickly besettled as the world in itsadvancement has settled thequestions of constitutionalgovernment for the masses, of theopium traffic, of the serf, and of theslave—not as matters of economicand political expediency but asquestions of right and wrong.

Analysis separates a subject into its

essential parts. This it may do byvarious principles; for example, analysismay follow the order of time (geologiceras), order of place (geographic facts),logical order (a sermon outline), orderof increasing interest, or procession to aclimax (a lecture on 20th century poets);and so on. A classic example ofanalytical exposition is the following:

In philosophy the contemplations ofman do either penetrate unto God,or are circumferred to nature, orare reflected or reverted uponhimself. Out of which severalinquiries there do arise threeknowledges: divine philosophy,natural philosophy, and human

philosophy or humanity. For allthings are marked and stamped withthis triple character, of the powerof God, the difference of nature,and the use of man.

—Lord Bacon, The Advancementof Learning.[16]

Division differs only from analysis inthat analysis follows the inherentdivisions of a subject, as illustrated inthe foregoing passage, while divisionarbitrarily separates the subject forconvenience of treatment, as in thefollowing none-too-logical example:

For civil history, it is of threekinds; not unfitly to be compared

with the three kinds of pictures orimages. For of pictures or images,we see some are unfinished, someare perfect, and some are defaced.So of histories we may find threekinds, memorials, perfect histories,and antiquities; for memorials arehistory unfinished, or the first orrough drafts of history; andantiquities are history defaced, orsome remnants of history whichhave casually escaped theshipwreck of time.

—Lord Bacon, The Advancementof Learning.[17]

Generalization states a broadprinciple, or a general truth, derived

from examination of a considerablenumber of individual facts. Thissynthetic exposition is not the same asargumentative generalization, whichsupports a general contention by citinginstances in proof. Observe how Holmesbegins with one fact, and by addinganother and another reaches a completewhole. This is one of the most effectivedevices in the public speaker'srepertory.

Take a hollow cylinder, the bottomclosed while the top remains open,and pour in water to the height of afew inches. Next cover the waterwith a flat plate or piston, whichfits the interior of the cylinder

perfectly; then apply heat to thewater, and we shall witness thefollowing phenomena. After thelapse of some minutes the waterwill begin to boil, and the steamaccumulating at the upper surfacewill make room for itself by raisingthe piston slightly. As the boilingcontinues, more and more steamwill be formed, and raise the pistonhigher and higher, till all the wateris boiled away, and nothing butsteam is left in the cylinder. Nowthis machine, consisting of cylinder,piston, water, and fire, is the steam-engine in its most elementary form.For a steam-engine may be definedas an apparatus for doing work by

means of heat applied to water; andsince raising such a weight as thepiston is a form of doing work, thisapparatus, clumsy and inconvenientthough it may be, answers thedefinition precisely.[18]

Reference to Experience is one ofthe most vital principles in exposition—as in every other form of discourse.

"Reference to experience, as hereused, means reference to the known. Theknown is that which the listener hasseen, heard, read, felt, believed or done,and which still exists in hisconsciousness—his stock of knowledge.It embraces all those thoughts, feelingsand happenings which are to him real.

Reference to Experience, then,means coming into the listener's life.[19]

The vast results obtained byscience are won by no mysticalfaculties, by no mental processes,other than those which arepractised by every one of us in thehumblest and meanest affairs oflife. A detective policemandiscovers a burglar from the marksmade by his shoe, by a mentalprocess identical with that bywhich Cuvier restored the extinctanimals of Montmartre fromfragments of their bones. Nor doesthat process of induction anddeduction by which a lady, finding

a stain of a particular kind upon herdress, concludes that somebody hasupset the inkstand thereon, differ inany way from that by which Adamsand Leverrier discovered a newplanet. The man of science, in fact,simply uses with scrupulousexactness the methods which we allhabitually, and at every moment,use carelessly.—Thomas Henry Huxley, LaySermons.Do you set down your name in thescroll of youth, that are writtendown old with all the characters ofage? Have you not a moist eye? adry hand? a yellow cheek? a whitebeard? a decreasing leg? an

increasing belly? is not your voicebroken? your wind short? your chindouble? your wit single? and everypart about you blasted withantiquity? and will you yet callyourself young? Fie, fie, fie, SirJohn!—Shakespeare, The Merry Wivesof Windsor.

Finally, in preparing expositorymaterial ask yourself these questionsregarding your subject:

What is it, and what is it not?What is it like, and unlike?What are its causes, and effects?How shall it be divided?With what subjects is it correlated?

What experiences does it recall?What examples illustrate it?

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What would be the effect of

adhering to any one of the forms ofdiscourse in a public address?

2. Have you ever heard such anaddress?

3. Invent a series of examplesillustrative of the distinctions made onpages 232 and 233.

4. Make a list of ten subjects thatmight be treated largely, if not entirely,by exposition.

5. Name the six standards by which

expository writing should be tried.6. Define any one of the following:

(a) storage battery; (b) "a free hand;" (c)sail boat; (d) "The Big Stick;" (e)nonsense; (f) "a good sport;" (g) short-story; (h) novel; (i) newspaper; (j)politician; (k) jealousy; (l) truth; (m)matinée girl; (n) college honor system;(o) modish; (p) slum; (q) settlementwork; (r) forensic.

7. Amplify the definition by antithesis.8. Invent two examples to illustrate

the definition (question 6).9. Invent two analogies for the same

subject (question 6).10. Make a short speech based on one

of the following: (a) wages and salary;(b) master and man; (c) war and peace;

(d) home and the boarding house; (e)struggle and victory; (f) ignorance andambition.

11. Make a ten-minute speech on anyof the topics named in question 6, usingall the methods of exposition alreadynamed.

12. Explain what is meant bydiscarding topics collateral andsubordinate to a subject.

13. Rewrite the jury-speech on page224.

14. Define correlation.15. Write an example of

"classification," on any political, social,economic, or moral issue of the day.

16. Make a brief analytical statementof Henry W. Grady's "The Race

Problem," page 36.17. By what analytical principle did

you proceed? (See page 225.)18. Write a short, carefully

generalized speech from a large amountof data on one of the following subjects:(a) The servant girl problem; (b) cats;(c) the baseball craze; (d) reformadministrations; (e) sewing societies; (f)coeducation; (g) the traveling salesman.

19. Observe this passage fromNewton's "Effective Speaking:"

"That man is a cynic. He seesgoodness nowhere. He sneers atvirtue, sneers at love; to him themaiden plighting her troth is anartful schemer, and he sees even in

the mother's kiss nothing but anempty conventionality."

Write, commit and deliver twosimilar passages based on your choicefrom this list: (a) "the egotist;" (b)"the sensualist;" (c) "the hypocrite;" (d)"the timid man;" (e) "the joker;" (f) "theflirt;" (g) "the ungrateful woman;" (h)"the mournful man." In both cases use theprinciple of "Reference to Experience."

20. Write a passage on any of theforegoing characters in imitation of thestyle of Shakespeare's characterizationof Sir John Falstaff, page 227.

20ChapterINFLUENCING BYDESCRIPTION

The groves of Eden vanish'd nowso long,Live in description, andlook green in song.

—Alexander Pope, WindsorForest.

The moment our discourse risesabove the ground-line of familiar

facts, and is inflamed with passionor exalted thought, it clothes itselfin images. A man conversing inearnest, if he watch his intellectualprocesses, will find that always amaterial image, more or lessluminous, arises in his mind,contemporaneous with everythought, which furnishes thevestment of the thought… . Thisimagery is spontaneous. It is theblending of experience with thepresent action of the mind. It isproper creation.—Ralph WaldoEmerson, Nature.

Like other valuable resources inpublic speaking, description loses its

power when carried to an extreme.Over-ornamentation makes the subjectridiculous. A dust-cloth is a very usefulthing, but why embroider it? Whetherdescription shall be restrained within itsproper and important limits, or beencouraged to run riot, is the personalchoice that comes before every speaker,for man's earliest literary tendency is todepict.

The Nature of DescriptionTo describe is to call up a picture in

the mind of the hearer. "In talking ofdescription we naturally speak ofportraying, delineating, coloring, and allthe devices of the picture painter. Todescribe is to visualize, hence we mustlook at description as a pictorial

process, whether the writer deals withmaterial or with spiritual objects."[20]

If you were asked to describe therapid-fire gun you might go about it ineither of two ways: give a cold technicalaccount of its mechanism, in whole andin detail, or else describe it as a terribleengine of slaughter, dwelling upon itseffects rather than upon its structure.

The former of these processes isexposition, the latter is true description.Exposition deals more with the general,while description must deal witht h e particular. Expositionelucidates ideas, description treatso f things. Exposition deals witht h e abstract, description withthe concrete. Exposition is concerned

with the internal, description withthe external. Exposition is enumerative,d e s c r i p t i o n literary. Expositioni s intellectual, description sensory.Exposition is impersonal,description personal.

If description is a visualizing processfor the hearer, it is first of all such forthe speaker—he cannot describe what hehas never seen, either physically or infancy. It is this personal quality—thisquestion of the personal eye which seesthe things later to be described—thatmakes description so interesting inpublic speech. Given a speaker ofpersonality, and we are interested in hispersonal view—his view adds to thenatural interest of the scene, and may

even be the sole source of that interest tohis auditors.

The seeing eye has been praised in anearlier chapter (on "Subject andPreparation") and the imagination willbe treated in a subsequent one (on"Riding the Winged Horse"), but herewe must consider the picturing mind:the mind that forms the double habit ofseeing things clearly—for we see morewith the mind than we do with thephysical eye—and then of re-imagingthese things for the purpose of gettingthem before the minds' eyes of thehearers. No habit is more useful than thatof visualizing clearly the object, thescene, the situation, the action, theperson, about to be described. Unless

that primary process is carried outclearly, the picture will be blurred forthe hearer-beholder.

In a work of this nature we areconcerned with the rhetorical analysis ofdescription, and with its methods, onlyso far as may be needed for the practicalpurposes of the speaker.[21] Thefollowing grouping, therefore, will notbe regarded as complete, nor will it herebe necessary to add more than a word ofexplanation:

Description for Public SpeakersObjects { Still

Objects { In motion

Scenes { Still

Scenes { Including action

Situations { Preceding change

Situations { During change

Situations { After change

Actions { Mental

Actions {Physical

Persons { Internal

Persons { External

Some of the foregoing processes willoverlap, in certain instances, and all aremore likely to be found in combinationthan singly.

When description is intended solely togive accurate information—as todelineate the appearance, not thetechnical construction, of the latestZeppelin airship—it is called "scientific

description," and is akin to exposition.When it is intended to present a freepicture for the purpose of making a vividimpression, it is called "artisticdescription." With both of these thepublic speaker has to deal, but morefrequently with the latter form.Rhetoricians make still furtherdistinctions.

Methods of DescriptionIn public speaking, description

should be mainly by suggestion, notonly because suggestive description isso much more compact and time-savingbut because it is so vivid. Suggestiveexpressions connote more than theyliterally say—they suggest ideas andpictures to the mind of the hearer which

supplement the direct words of thespeaker. When Dickens, in his"Christmas Carol," says: "In came Mrs.Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile,"our minds complete the picture so deftlybegun—a much more effective processthan that of a minutely detaileddescription because it leaves a unified,vivid impression, and that is what weneed. Here is a present-day bit ofsuggestion: "General Trinkle was agnarly oak of a man—rough, solid, andsafe; you always knew where to findhim." Dickens presents Miss Peecher as:"A little pin-cushion, a little housewife,a little book, a little work-box, a littleset of tables and weights and measures,and a little woman all in one." In his

"Knickerbocker's" "History of NewYork," Irving portrays Wouter vanTwiller as "a robustious beer-barrel,standing on skids."

Whatever forms of description youneglect, be sure to master the art ofsuggestion.

Description may be by simplehint. Lowell notes a happy instance ofthis sort of picturing by intimation whenhe says of Chaucer: "Sometimes hedescribes amply by the merest hint, aswhere the Friar, before setting himselfdown, drives away the cat. We knowwithout need of more words that he haschosen the snuggest corner."

Description may depict a thing by itseffects. "When the spectator's eye is

dazzled, and he shades it," says Mozleyin his "Essays," "we form the idea of asplendid object; when his face turnspale, of a horrible one; from his quickwonder and admiration we form the ideaof great beauty; from his silent awe, ofgreat majesty."

Brief description may be byepithet. "Blue-eyed," "white-armed,""laughter-loving," are now conventionalcompounds, but they were fresh enoughwhen Homer first conjoined them. Thecenturies have not yet improved upon"Wheels round, brazen, eight-spoked,"or "Shields smooth, beautiful, brazen,well-hammered." Observe the effectiveuse of epithet in Will LevingtonComfort's "The Fighting Death," when he

speaks of soldiers in a Philippineskirmish as being "leeched against arock."

Description uses figures ofspeech. Any advanced rhetoric willdiscuss their forms and give examplesf o r guidance.[22] This matter is mostimportant, be assured. A brilliant yetcarefully restrained figurative style, astyle marked by brief, pungent, witty,and humorous comparisons andcharacterizations, is a wonderfulresource for all kinds of platform work.

Description may be direct. Thisstatement is plain enough withoutexposition. Use your own judgment as towhether in picturing you had betterproceed from a general view to the

details, or first give the details and thusbuild up the general picture, but by allmeans BE BRIEF.

Note the vivid compactness of thesedelineations from Washington Irving's"Knickerbocker:"

He was a short, square, brawny oldgentleman, with a double chin, amastiff mouth, and a broad coppernose, which was supposed in thosedays to have acquired its fiery huefrom the constant neighborhood ofhis tobacco pipe.He was exactly five feet six inchesin height, and six feet five inches incircumference. His head was aperfect sphere, and of such

stupendous dimensions, that DameNature, with all her sex's ingenuity,would have been puzzled toconstruct a neck capable ofsupporting it; wherefore she wiselydeclined the attempt, and settled itfirmly on the top of his backbone,just between the shoulders. Hisbody was of an oblong form,particularly capacious at bottom;which was wisely ordered byProvidence, seeing that he was aman of sedentary habits, and veryaverse to the idle labor of walking.

The foregoing is too long for theplatform, but it is so good-humored, sofull of delightful exaggeration, that

it may well serve as a model ofhumorous character picturing, for hereone inevitably sees the inner man in theouter.

Direct description for platform usemay be made vivid by the sparing use ofthe "historical present." The followingdramatic passage, accompanied by themost lively action, has lingered in themind for thirty years after hearing Dr. T.De Witt Talmage lecture on "BigBlunders." The crack of the bat soundsclear even today:

Get ready the bats and take yourpositions. Now, give us the ball.Too low. Don't strike. Too high.Don't strike. There it comes like

lightning. Strike! Away it soars!Higher! Higher! Run! Another base!Faster! Faster! Good! All around atone stroke!

Observe the remarkable way in whichthe lecturer fused speaker, audience,spectators, and players into one excited,ecstatic whole—just as you have foundyourself starting forward in your seat atthe delivery of the ball with "three onand two down" in the ninth inning.Notice, too, how—perhapsunconsciously—Talmage painted thescene in Homer's characteristic style:not as having already happened, but ashappening before your eyes.

If you have attended many travel talks

you must have been impressed by thepainful extremes to which the lecturersgo—with a few notable exceptions, theirlanguage is either over-ornate or crude.If you would learn the power of wordsto make scenery, yes, even houses,palpitate with poetry and human appeal,read Lafcadio Hearn, Robert LouisStevenson, Pierre Loti, and Edmondo DeAmicis.

Blue-distant, a mountain of carvenstone appeared before them,—theTemple, lifting to heaven itswilderness of chiseled pinnacles,flinging to the sky the golden sprayof its decoration.

—Lafcadio Hearn, Chinese

Ghosts.The stars were clear, colored, andjewel-like, but not frosty. A faintsilvery vapour stood for the MilkyWay. All around me the black fir-points stood upright and stock-still.By the whiteness of the pack-saddleI could see Modestine walkinground and round at the length of hertether; I could hear her steadilymunching at the sward; but therewas not another sound save theindescribable quiet talk of therunnel over the stones.—Robert Louis Stevenson, Travels

with a Donkey.It was full autumn now, late autumn—with the nightfalls gloomy, and

all things growing dark early in theold cottage, and all the Breton landlooking sombre, too. The very daysseemed but twilight; immeasurableclouds, slowly passing, wouldsuddenly bring darkness at broadnoon. The wind moaned constantly—it was like the sound of a greatcathedral organ at a distance, butplaying profane airs, or despairingdirges; at other times it would comeclose to the door, and lift up a howllike wild beasts.—Pierre Loti, AnIceland Fisherman.I see the great refectory,[23] where abattalion might have drilled; I seethe long tables, the five hundredheads bent above the plates, the

rapid motion of five hundred forks,of a thousand hands, and sixteenthousand teeth; the swarm ofservants running here and there,called to, scolded, hurried, onevery side at once; I hear the clatterof dishes, the deafening noise, thevoices choked with food crying out:"Bread—bread!" and I feel oncemore the formidable appetite, theherculean strength of jaw, theexuberant life and spirits of thosefar-off days.[24]

—Edmondo De Amicis, CollegeFriends.

Suggestions for the Use ofDescription

Decide, on beginning a description,what point of view you wish yourhearers to take. One cannot see eithera mountain or a man on all sides at once.Establish a view-point, and do not shiftwithout giving notice.

Choose an attitude toward yoursubject—shall it be idealized?caricatured? ridiculed? exaggerated?defended? or described impartially?

Be sure of your mood, too, for it willcolor the subject to be described.Melancholy will make a rose-gardenlook gray.

Adopt an order in which you willproceed—do not shift backward andforward from near to far, remote to closein time, general to particular, large to

small, important to unimportant, concreteto abstract, physical to mental; butfollow your chosen order. Scattered andshifting observations produce hazyimpressions just as a moving cameraspoils the time-exposure.

Do not go into needless minutiæ.Some details identify a thing with itsclass, while other details differentiate itfrom its class. Choose only thesignificant, suggestive characteristicsand bring those out with terse vividness.Learn a lesson from the few strokes usedby the poster artist.

In determining what to describe andwhat merely to name, seek to read theknowledge of your audience. Thedifference to them between the unknown

and the known is a vital one also to you.Relentlessly cut out all ideas and

words not necessary to produce theeffect you desire. Each element in amental picture either helps or hinders.Be sure they do not hinder, for theycannot be passively present in anydiscourse.

Interruptions of the description tomake side-remarks are as powerful todestroy unity as are scattered descriptivephrases. The only visual impression thatcan be effective is one that is unified.

In describing, try to call up theemotions you felt when first you saw thescene, and then try to reproduce thoseemotions in your hearers. Description isprimarily emotional in its appeal;

nothing can be more deadly dull than acold, unemotional outline, while nothingleaves a warmer impression than aglowing, spirited description.

Give a swift and vivid general viewat the close of the portrayal. First andfinal impressions remain the longest.The mind may be trained to take in thecharacteristic points of a subject, so asto view in a single scene, action,experience, or character, a unifiedimpression of the whole. To describe athing as a whole you must first see it as awhole. Master that art and you havemastered description to the last degree.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTISE

THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE

I went to Washington the other day,and I stood on the Capitol Hill; myheart beat quick as I looked at thetowering marble of my country'sCapitol and the mist gathered in myeyes as I thought of its tremendoussignificance, and the armies and thetreasury, and the judges and thePresident, and the Congress and thecourts, and all that was gatheredthere. And I felt that the sun in allits course could not look down on abetter sight than that majestic homeof a republic that had taught theworld its best lessons of liberty.And I felt that if honor and wisdomand justice abided therein, theworld would at last owe to that

great house in which the ark of thecovenant of my country is lodged,its final uplifting and itsregeneration.Two days afterward, I went to visita friend in the country, a modestman, with a quiet country home. Itwas just a simple, unpretentioushouse, set about with big trees,encircled in meadow and field richwith the promise of harvest. Thefragrance of the pink and hollyhockin the front yard was mingled withthe aroma of the orchard and of thegardens, and resonant with thecluck of poultry and the hum ofbees.Inside was quiet, cleanliness, thrift,

and comfort. There was the oldclock that had welcomed, in steadymeasure, every newcomer to thefamily, that had ticked the solemnrequiem of the dead, and had keptcompany with the watcher at thebedside. There were the big, restfulbeds and the old, open fireplace,and the old family Bible, thumbedwith the fingers of hands long sincestill, and wet with the tears of eyeslong since closed, holding thesimple annals of the family and theheart and the conscience of thehome.Outside, there stood my friend, themaster, a simple, upright man, withno mortgage on his roof, no lien on

his growing crops, master of hisland and master of himself. Therewas his old father, an aged,trembling man, but happy in theheart and home of his son. And asthey started to their home, the handsof the old man went down on theyoung man's shoulder, laying therethe unspeakable blessing of thehonored and grateful father andennobling it with the knighthood ofthe fifth commandment.And as they reached the door theold mother came with the sunsetfalling fair on her face, and lightingup her deep, patient eyes, while herlips, trembling with the rich musicof her heart, bade her husband and

son welcome to their home. Beyondwas the housewife, busy with herhousehold cares, clean of heart andconscience, the buckler andhelpmeet of her husband. Down thelane came the children, troopinghome after the cows, seeking astruant birds do the quiet of theirhome nest.And I saw the night come down onthat house, falling gently as thewings of the unseen dove. And theold man—while a startled birdcalled from the forest, and the treeswere shrill with the cricket's cry,and the stars were swarming in thesky—got the family around him,and, taking the old Bible from the

table, called them to their knees, thelittle baby hiding in the folds of itsmother's dress, while he closed therecord of that simple day by callingdown God's benediction on thatfamily and that home. And while Igazed, the vision of that marbleCapitol faded. Forgotten were itstreasures and its majesty and I said,"Oh, surely here in the homes of thepeople are lodged at last thestrength and the responsibility ofthis government, the hope and thepromise of this republic."—HenryW. Grady.

SUGGESTIVE SCENESOne thing in life calls for another;there is a fitness in events and

places. The sight of a pleasantarbor puts it in our mind to sitthere. One place suggests work,another idleness, a third earlyrising and long rambles in the dew.The effect of night, of any flowingwater, of lighted cities, of the peepof day, of ships, of the open ocean,calls up in the mind an army ofanonymous desires and pleasures.Something, we feel, should happen;we know not what, yet we proceedin quest of it. And many of thehappiest hours in life fleet by us inthis vain attendance on the genius ofthe place and moment. It is thus thattracts of young fir, and low rocksthat reach into deep soundings,

particularly delight and torture me.Something must have happened insuch places, and perhaps ages back,to members of my race; and when Iwas a child I tried to inventappropriate games for them, as Istill try, just as vainly, to fit themwith the proper story. Some placesspeak distinctly. Certain dankgardens cry aloud for a murder;certain old houses demand to behaunted; certain coasts are set asidefor shipwreck. Other spots againseem to abide their destiny,suggestive and impenetrable,"miching mallecho." The inn atBurford Bridge, with its arboursand green garden and silent,

eddying river—though it is knownalready as the place where Keatswrote some of his Endymion andNelson parted from his Emma—still seems to wait the coming of theappropriate legend. Within theseivied walls, behind these old greenshutters, some further businesssmoulders, waiting for its hour. Theold Hawes Inn at the Queen's ferrymakes a similar call upon my fancy.There it stands, apart from thetown, beside the pier, in a climateof its own, half inland, half marine—in front, the ferry bubbling withthe tide and the guard-shipswinging to her anchor; behind, theold garden with the trees.

Americans seek it already for thesake of Lovel and Oldbuck, whodined there at the beginning ofthe Antiquary. But you need not tellme—that is not all; there is somestory, unrecorded or not yetcomplete, which must express themeaning of that inn more fully… . Ihave lived both at the Hawes andBurford in a perpetual flutter, onthe heel, as it seemed, of someadventure that should justify theplace; but though the feeling had meto bed at night and called me againat morning in one unbroken roundof pleasure and suspense, nothingbefell me in either worth remark.The man or the hour had not yet

come; but some day, I think, a boatshall put off from the Queen's ferry,fraught with a dear cargo, and somefrosty night a horseman, on a tragicerrand, rattle with his whip uponthe green shutters at the inn atBurford.

—R.L. Stevenson, A Gossip onRomance.

FROM "MIDNIGHT INLONDON"

Clang! Clang! Clang! the fire-bells!Bing! Bing! Bing! the alarm! In aninstant quiet turns to uproar—anoutburst of noise, excitement,clamor—bedlam broke loose;Bing! Bing! Bing! Rattle, clash andclatter. Open fly the doors; brave

men mount their boxes. Bing! Bing!Bing! They're off! The horses teardown the street like mad. Bing!Bing! Bing! goes the gong!"Get out of the track! The enginesare coming! For God's sake, snatchthat child from the road!"On, on, wildly, resolutely, madlyfly the steeds. Bing! Bing! the gong.Away dash the horses on the wingsof fevered fury. On whirls themachine, down streets, aroundcorners, up this avenue and acrossthat one, out into the very bowels ofdarkness, whiffing, wheezing,shooting a million sparks from thestack, paving the path of startlednight with a galaxy of stars. Over

the house-tops to the north, avolcanic burst of flame shoots out,belching with blinding effect. Thesky is ablaze. A tenement house isburning. Five hundred souls are inperil. Merciful Heaven! Spare thevictims! Are the engines coming?Yes, here they are, dashing downthe street. Look! the horses rideupon the wind; eyes bulging likeballs of fire; nostrils wide open. Apalpitating billow of fire, rolling,plunging, bounding rising, falling,swelling, heaving, and with madpassion bursting its red-hot sidesasunder, reaching out its arms,encircling, squeezing, grabbing up,swallowing everything before it

with the hot, greedy mouth of anappalling monster.How the horses dash around thecorner! Animal instinct say you?Aye, more. Brute reason."Up the ladders, men!"The towering building is buried inbloated banks of savage, bitingelements. Forked tongues dart outand in, dodge here and there, upand down, and wind their cuttingedges around every object. A crash,a dull, explosive sound, and a puffof smoke leaps out. At the highestpoint upon the roof stands a darkfigure in a desperate strait, thehands making frantic gestures, thearms swinging wildly—and then

the body shoots off into frightfulspace, plunging upon the pavementwith a revolting thud. The man'sarm strikes a bystander as he dartsdown. The crowd shudders, sways,and utters a low murmur of pity andhorror. The faint-hearted lookers-on hide their faces. One womanswoons away."Poor fellow! Dead!" exclaims alaborer, as he looks upon the man'sbody."Aye, Joe, and I knew him well,too! He lived next door to me, fiveflights back. He leaves a widowedmother and two wee bits oforphans. I helped him bury his wifea fortnight ago. Ah, Joe! but it's

hard lines for the orphans."A ghastly hour moves on, draggingits regiment of panic in its trail andleaving crimson blotches of crueltyalong the path of night."Are they all out, firemen?""Aye, aye, sir!""No, they're not! There's a womanin the top window holding a childin her arms—over yonder in theright-hand corner! The ladders,there! A hundred pounds to the manwho makes the rescue!"A dozen start. One man moresupple than the others, and recklessin his bravery, clambers to the toprung of the ladder."Too short!" he cries. "Hoist

another!"Up it goes. He mounts to thewindow, fastens the rope,lashes mother and babe, swingsthem off into ugly emptiness, andlets them down to be rescued by hiscomrades."Bravo, fireman!" shouts thecrowd.A crash breaks through the uproarof crackling timbers."Look alive, up there! Great God!The roof has fallen!"The walls sway, rock, and tumblein with a deafening roar. Thespectators cease to breathe. Thecold truth reveals itself. Thefireman has been carried into the

seething furnace. An old woman,bent with the weight of age, rushesthrough the fire line, shrieking,raving, and wringing her hands andopening her heart of grief."Poor John! He was all I had! Anda brave lad he was, too! But he'sgone now. He lost his own life insavin' two more, and now—nowhe's there, away in there!" sherepeats, pointing to the cruel oven.The engines do their work. Theflames die out. An eerie gloomhangs over the ruins like aformidable, blackened pall.And the noon of night is passed.—Ardennes Jones-Foster.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 1. Write two paragraphs on one of

these: the race horse, the motor boat,golfing, tennis; let the first be pureexposition and the second puredescription.

2. Select your own theme and do thesame in two short extemporaneousspeeches.

3. Deliver a short original address inthe over-ornamented style.

4. (a) Point out its defects; (b) recastit in a more effective style; (c) showhow the one surpasses the other.

5. Make a list of ten subjects whichlend themselves to description in thestyle you prefer.

6. Deliver a two-minute speech onany one of them, using chiefly, but notsolely, description.

7. For one minute, look at any object,scene, action, picture, or person youchoose, take two minutes to arrange yourthoughts, and then deliver a shortdescription—all without making writtennotes.

8. In what sense is descriptionmore personal than exposition?

9. Explain the difference between ascientific and an artistic description.

10. In the style of Dickens and Irving(pages 234, 235), write five separatesentences describing five characters bymeans of suggestion—one sentence toeach.

11. Describe a character by means ofa hint, after the manner of Chaucer (p.235).

12. Read aloud the following withspecial attention to gesture:

His very throat was moral. Yousaw a good deal of it. You lookedover a very low fence of whitecravat (whereof no man had everbeheld the tie, for he fastened itbehind), and there it lay, a valleybetween two jutting heights ofcollar, serene and whiskerlessbefore you. It seemed to say, on thepart of Mr. Pecksniff, "There is nodeception, ladies and gentlemen, allis peace, a holy calm pervades

me." So did his hair, just grizzledwith an iron gray, which was allbrushed off his forehead, and stoodbolt upright, or slightly drooped inkindred action with his heavyeyelids. So did his person, whichwas sleek though free fromcorpulency. So did his manner,which was soft and oily. In a word,even his plain black suit, and stateof widower, and dangling doubleeye-glass, all tended to the samepurpose, and cried aloud, "Beholdthe moral Pecksniff!"

—Charles Dickens, MartinChuzzlewit.

13. Which of the following do you

prefer, and why?

She was a blooming lass of fresheighteen, plump as a partridge, ripeand melting and rosy-cheeked asone of her father's peaches.—Irving.She was a splendidly feminine girl,as wholesome as a Novemberpippin, and no more mysteriousthan a window-pane.

—O. Henry.Small, shining, neat, methodical,and buxom was Miss Peecher;cherry-cheeked and tuneful ofvoice.—Dickens.

14. Invent five epithets, and applythem as you choose (p. 235).

15. (a) Make a list of five figures ofspeech; (b) define them; (c) give anexample—preferably original—undereach.

16. Pick out the figures of speech inthe address by Grady, on page 240.

17. Invent an original figure to takethe place of any one in Grady's speech.

18. What sort of figures do you find inthe selection from Stevenson, on page242 ?

19. What methods of description doeshe seem to prefer?

20. Write and deliver, without notesand with descriptive gestures, adescription in imitation of any of theauthors quoted in this chapter.

21. Reëxamine one of your past

speeches and improve the descriptivework. Report on what faults you found toexist.

22. Deliver an extemporaneousspeech describing any dramatic scene inthe style of "Midnight in London."

23. Describe an event in your favoritesport in the style of Dr. Talmage. Becareful to make the delivery effective.

24. Criticise, favorably orunfavorably, the descriptions of anytravel talk you may have heard recently.

25. Deliver a brief original traveltalk, as though you were showingpictures.

26. Recast the talk and deliver it"without pictures."

21ChapterINFLUENCING BYNARRATION

The art of narration is the art ofwriting in hooks and eyes. Theprinciple consists in making theappropriate thought follow theappropriate thought, the proper factthe proper fact; in first preparingthe mind for what is to come, and

then letting it come.—WalterBagehot, Literary Studies.Our very speech is curiouslyhistorical. Most men, you mayobserve, speak only to narrate; notin imparting what they have thought,which indeed were often a verysmall matter, but in exhibiting whatthey have undergone or seen, whichis a quite unlimited one, do talkersdilate. Cut us off from Narrative,how would the stream ofconversation, even among thewisest, languish into detachedhandfuls, and among the foolishutterly evaporate! Thus, as we donothing but enact History, we saylittle but recite it.—Thomas

Carlyle, On History.

Only a small segment of the great fieldof narration offers its resources to thepublic speaker, and that includes theanecdote, biographical facts, and thenarration of events in general.

Narration—more easily defined thanmastered—is the recital of an incident,or a group of facts and occurrences, insuch a manner as to produce a desiredeffect.

The laws of narration are few, but itssuccessful practise involves more of artthan would at first appear—so much,indeed, that we cannot even touch uponits technique here, but must contentourselves with an examination of a few

examples of narration as used in publicspeech.

In a preliminary way, notice howradically the public speaker's use ofnarrative differs from that of the story-writer in the more limited scope,absence of extended dialogue andcharacter drawing, and freedom fromelaboration of detail, which characterizeplatform narrative. On the other hand,there are several similarities of method:the frequent combination of narrationwith exposition, description,argumentation, and pleading; the careexercised in the arrangement of materialso as to produce a strong effect at theclose (climax); the very general practiseof concealing the "point" (dénouement)

of a story until the effective moment; andthe careful suppression of needless, andtherefore hurtful, details.

So we see that, whether for magazineor platform, the art of narration involvesfar more than the recital of annals; thesuccession of events recorded requiresa plan in order to bring them out withreal effect.

It will be noticed, too, that the literarystyle in platform narration is likely to beeither less polished and more vigorouslydramatic than in that intended forpublication, or else more fervid andelevated in tone. In this latter respect,however, the best platform speaking oftoday differs from the models of thepreceding generation, wherein a highly

dignified, and sometimes pompous, stylewas thought the only fitting dress for apublic deliverance. Great, noble andstirring as these older masters were intheir lofty and impassioned eloquence,we are sometimes oppressed when weread their sounding periods for any greatlength of time—even allowing for allthat we lose by missing the speaker'spresence, voice, and fire. So let usmodel our platform narration, as ourother forms of speech, upon the effectiveaddresses of the moderns, withoutlessening our admiration for the olderschool.

The AnecdoteAn anecdote is a short narrative of a

single event, told as being striking

enough to bring out a point. The keenerthe point, the more condensed the form,and the more suddenly the applicationstrikes the hearer, the better the story.

To regard an anecdote as anillustration—an interpretive picture—will help to hold us to its true purpose,for a purposeless story is of all offenseson the platform the most asinine. Aperfectly capital joke will fall flat whenit is dragged in by the nape withoutevident bearing on the subject underdiscussion. On the other hand, anapposite anecdote has saved many aspeech from failure.

"There is no finer opportunity for thedisplay of tact than in the introduction ofwitty or humorous stories into a

discourse. Wit is keen and like a rapier,piercing deeply, sometimes even to theheart. Humor is good-natured, and doesnot wound. Wit is founded upon thesudden discovery of an unsuspectedrelation existing between two ideas.Humor deals with things out of relation—with the incongruous. It was wit inDouglass Jerrold to retort upon thescowl of a stranger whose shoulder hehad familiarly slapped, mistaking himfor a friend: 'I beg your pardon, I thoughtI knew you—but I'm glad I don't.' It washumor in the Southern orator, John Wise,to liken the pleasure of spendingan evening with a Puritan girl to that ofsitting on a block of ice in winter,cracking hailstones between his

teeth."[25]

The foregoing quotation has beenintroduced chiefly to illustrate the firstand simplest form of anecdote—thesingle sentence embodying a pungentsaying.

Another simple form is that whichconveys its meaning without need of"application," as the old preachers usedto say. George Ade has quoted this oneas the best joke he ever heard:

Two solemn-looking gentlemenwere riding together in a railwaycarriage. One gentleman said to theother: "Is your wife entertainingthis summer?" Whereupon the othergentleman replied: "Not very."

Other anecdotes need harnessing tothe particular truth the speaker wishes tocarry along in his talk. Sometimes theapplication is made before the story istold and the audience is prepared tomake the comparison, point by point, asthe illustration is told. Henry W. Gradyused this method in one of the anecdoteshe told while delivering his greatextemporaneous address, "The NewSouth."

Age does not endow all things withstrength and virtue, nor are all newthings to be despised. Theshoemaker who put over his door,"John Smith's shop, founded 1760,"was more than matched by his

young rival across the street whohung out this sign: "Bill Jones.Established 1886. No old stockkept in this shop."

In two anecdotes, told also in "TheNew South," Mr. Grady illustratedanother way of enforcing theapplication: in both instances he split theidea he wished to drive home, bringingin part before and part after the recital ofthe story. The fact that the speakermisquoted the words of Genesis inwhich the Ark is described did not seemto detract from the burlesque humor ofthe story.

I bespeak the utmost stretch of yourcourtesy tonight. I am not troubled

about those from whom I come.You remember the man whose wifesent him to a neighbor with apitcher of milk, who, tripping onthe top step, fell, with such casualinterruptions as the landingsafforded, into the basement, and,while picking himself up, had thepleasure of hearing his wife callout:"John, did you break the pitcher?"No, I didn't," said John, "but I bedinged if I don't."So, while those who call to mefrom behind may inspire me withenergy, if not with courage, I ask anindulgent hearing from you. I begthat you will bring your full faith in

American fairness and frankness tojudgment upon what I shall say.There was an old preacher oncewho told some boys of the Biblelesson he was going to read in themorning. The boys, finding theplace, glued together the connectingpages. The next morning he read onthe bottom of one page: "WhenNoah was one hundred and twentyyears old he took unto himself awife, who was"—then turning thepage—"one hundred and fortycubits long, forty cubits wide, builtof gopher wood, and covered withpitch inside and out." He wasnaturally puzzled at this. He read itagain, verified it, and then said,

"My friends, this is the first time Iever met this in the Bible, but Iaccept it as an evidence of theassertion that we are fearfully andwonderfully made." If I could getyou to hold such faith to-night, Icould proceed cheerfully to the taskI otherwise approach with a senseof consecration.

Now and then a speaker will plungewithout introduction into an anecdote,leaving the application to follow. Thefollowing illustrates this method:

A large, slew-footed darky wasleaning against the corner of therailroad station in a Texas townwhen the noon whistle in

the canning factory blew and thehands hurried out, bearing theirgrub buckets. The darky listened,with his head on one side until therocketing echo had quite diedaway. Then he heaved a deep sighand remarked to himself:"Dar she go. Dinner time for somefolks—but jes' 12 o'clock fur me!"That is the situation in thousands ofAmerican factories, large andsmall, today. And why? etc., etc.

Doubtless the most frequent platformuse of the anecdote is in the pulpit. Thesermon "illustration," however, is notalways strictly narrative in form, buttends to extended comparison, as the

following from Dr. Alexander Maclaren:

Men will stand as Indian fakirs do,with their arms above their headsuntil they stiffen there. They willperch themselves upon pillars likeSimeon Stylites, for years, till thebirds build their nests in their hair.They will measure all the distancefrom Cape Comorin to Juggernaut'stemple with their bodies along thedusty road. They will wear hairshirts and scourge themselves. Theywill fast and deny themselves. Theywill build cathedrals and endowchurches. They will do as many ofyou do, labor by fits and starts allthru your lives at the endless task of

making yourselves ready forheaven, and winning it byobedience and by righteousness.They will do all these things and dothem gladly, rather than listen to thehumbling message that says, "Youdo not need to do anything—wash."Is it your washing, or the water, thatwill clean you? Wash and be clean!Naaman's cleaning was only a testof his obedience, and a token that itwas God who cleansed him. Therewas no power in Jordan's waters totake away the taint of leprosy. Ourcleansing is in that blood of JesusChrist that has the power to takeaway all sin, and to make thefoulest amongst us pure and clean.

One final word must be said about theintroduction to the anecdote. A clumsy,inappropriate introduction is fatal,whereas a single apt or witty sentencewill kindle interest and prepare afavorable hearing. The followingextreme illustration, by the Englishhumorist, Captain Harry Graham, wellsatirizes the stumbling manner:

The best story that I ever heard wasone that I was told once in the fallof 1905 (or it may have been1906), when I was visiting Boston—at least, I think it was Boston; itmay have been Washington (mymemory is so bad).I happened to run across a most

amusing man whose name I forget—Williams or Wilson or Wilkins;some name like that—and he toldme this story while we werewaiting for a trolley car.I can still remember how heartily Ilaughed at the time; and again, thatevening, after I had gone to bed,how I laughed myself to sleeprecalling the humor of thisincredibly humorous story. It wasreally quite extraordinarily funny.In fact, I can truthfully affirm that itis quite the most amusing story Ihave ever had the privilege ofhearing. Unfortunately, I'veforgotten it.

Biographical FactsPublic speaking has much to do with

personalities; naturally, therefore, thenarration of a series of biographicaldetails, including anecdotes among therecital of interesting facts, plays a largepart in the eulogy, the memorial address,the political speech, the sermon, thelecture, and other platform deliverances.Whole addresses may be made up ofsuch biographical details, such as asermon on "Moses," or a lecture on"Lee."

The following example is in itself anexpanded anecdote, forming a link in achain:

MARIUS IN PRISON

The peculiar sublimity of theRoman mind does not expressitself, nor is it at all to be sought, intheir poetry. Poetry, according tothe Roman ideal of it, was not anadequate organ for the grandermovements of the national mind.Roman sublimity must be lookedfor in Roman acts, and in Romansayings. Where, again, will youfind a more adequate expression ofthe Roman majesty, than in thesaying of Trajan—Imperatoremoportere stantem mori—thatCæsar ought to die standing; aspeech of imperatorial grandeur!Implying that he, who was "theforemost man of all this world,"—

and, in regard to all other nations,the representative of his own,—should express its characteristicvirtue in his farewell act—shoulddie in procinctu—and should meetthe last enemy as the first, with aRoman countenance and in asoldier's attitude. If this had animperatorial—what follows had aconsular majesty, and is almost thegrandest story upon record.Marius, the man who rose to beseven times consul, was in adungeon, and a slave was sent inwith commission to put him todeath. These were the persons,—the two extremities of exalted andforlorn humanity, its vanward and

its rearward man, a Roman consuland an abject slave. But theirnatural relations to each otherwere, by the caprice of fortune,monstrously inverted: the consulwas in chains; the slave was for amoment the arbiter of his fate. Bywhat spells, what magic, didMarius reinstate himself in hisnatural prerogatives? By whatmarvels drawn from heaven orfrom earth, did he, in the twinklingof an eye, again invest himself withthe purple, and place betweenhimself and his assassin a host ofshadowy lictors? By the mere blanksupremacy of great minds overweak ones. He fascinated the

slave, as a rattlesnake does a bird.Standing "like Teneriffe," he smotehim with his eye, and said, "Tune,homo, audes occidere C.Marium?"—"Dost thou, fellow,presume to kill Caius Marius?"Whereat, the reptile, quaking underthe voice, nor daring to affront theconsular eye, sank gently to theground—turned round upon hishands and feet—and, crawling outof the prison like any other vermin,left Marius standing in solitude assteadfast and immovable as thecapitol.

—Thomas De Quincy.

Here is a similar example, prefaced

by a general historical statement andconcluding with autobiographicaldetails:

A REMINISCENCE OFLEXINGTONOne raw morning in spring—it willbe eighty years the 19th day of thismonth—Hancock and Adams, theMoses and Aaron of that GreatDeliverance, were both atLexington; they also had"obstructed an officer" with bravewords. British soldiers, a thousandstrong, came to seize them andcarry them over sea for trial, and sonip the bud of Freedomauspiciously opening in that early

spring. The town militia cametogether before daylight, "fortraining." A great, tall man, with alarge head and a high, wide brow,their captain,—one who had "seenservice,"—marshalled them intoline, numbering but seventy, andbade "every man load his piecewith powder and ball. I will orderthe first man shot that runs away,"said he, when some faltered. "Don'tfire unless fired upon, but if theywant to have a war, let it beginhere."Gentlemen, you know whatfollowed; those farmers andmechanics "fired the shot heardround the world." A little

monument covers the bones of suchas before had pledged their fortuneand their sacred honor to theFreedom of America, and that daygave it also their lives. I was bornin that little town, and bred up amidthe memories of that day. When aboy, my mother lifted me up, oneSunday, in her religious, patrioticarms, and held me while I read thefirst monumental line I ever saw—"Sacred to Liberty and the Rightsof Mankind."Since then I have studied thememorial marbles of Greece andRome, in many an ancient town;nay, on Egyptian obelisks have readwhat was written before the Eternal

raised up Moses to lead Israel outof Egypt; but no chiseled stone hasever stirred me to such emotion asthese rustic names of men who fell"In the Sacred Cause of God andtheir Country."Gentlemen, the Spirit of Liberty, theLove of Justice, were early fannedinto a flame in my boyish heart.That monument covers the bones ofmy own kinsfolk; it was their bloodwhich reddened the long, greengrass at Lexington. It was my ownname which stands chiseled on thatstone; the tall captain whomarshalled his fellow farmers andmechanics into stern array, andspoke such brave and dangerous

words as opened the war ofAmerican Independence,—the lastto leave the field,—was my father'sfather. I learned to read out of hisBible, and with a musket he thatday captured from the foe, I learnedanother religious lesson, that"Rebellion to Tyrants is Obedienceto God." I keep them both "Sacredto Liberty and the Rights ofMankind," to use them both "In theSacred Cause of God and myCountry."—Theodore Parker.

Narration of Events in GeneralIn this wider, emancipated narration

we find much mingling of other forms ofdiscourse, greatly to the advantage of the

speech, for this truth cannot be toostrongly emphasized: The efficientspeaker cuts loose from form for thesake of a big, free effect. The presentanalyses are for no other purpose thant o acquaint you with form—do notallow any such models to hang as aweight about your neck.

The following pure narration ofevents, from George William Curtis's"Paul Revere's Ride," varies thebiographical recital in other parts of hisfamous oration:

That evening, at ten o'clock, eighthundred British troops, underLieutenant-Colonel Smith, tookboat at the foot of the Common and

crossed to the Cambridge shore.Gage thought his secret had beenkept, but Lord Percy, who hadheard the people say on theCommon that the troops would misstheir aim, undeceived him. Gageinstantly ordered that no one shouldleave the town. But as the troopscrossed the river, Ebenezer Dorr,with a message to Hancock andAdams, was riding over the Neckto Roxbury, and Paul Revere wasrowing over the river toCharlestown, having agreed withhis friend, Robert Newman, toshow lanterns from the belfry of theOld North Church—"One if byland, and two if by sea"—as a

signal of the march of the British.

The following, from the same oration,beautifully mingles description withnarration:

It was a brilliant night. The winterhad been unusually mild, and thespring very forward. The hills werealready green. The early grainwaved in the fields, and the air wassweet with the blossomingorchards. Already the robinswhistled, the bluebirds sang, andthe benediction of peace restedupon the landscape. Under thecloudless moon the soldiers silentlymarched, and Paul Revere swiftlyrode, galloping through Medford

and West Cambridge, rousing everyhouse as he went spurring forLexington and Hancock and Adams,and evading the British patrols whohad been sent out to stop the news.

In the succeeding extract from anotherof Mr. Curtis's addresses, we have afree use of allegory as illustration:

THE LEADERSHIP OFEDUCATED MENThere is a modern English picturewhich the genius of Hawthornemight have inspired. The paintercalls it, "How they metthemselves." A man and a woman,haggard and weary, wandering lost

in a somber wood, suddenly meetthe shadowy figures of a youth anda maid. Some mysteriousfascination fixes the gaze and stillsthe hearts of the wanderers, andtheir amazement deepens into aweas they gradually recognizethemselves as once they were; thesoft bloom of youth upon theirrounded cheeks, the dewy light ofhope in their trusting eyes, exultingconfidence in their springing step,themselves blithe and radiant withthe glory of the dawn. Today, andhere, we meet ourselves. Not tothese familiar scenes alone—yonder college-green with itsreverend traditions; the halcyon

cove of the Seekonk, upon whichthe memory of Roger Williamsbroods like a bird of calm; thehistoric bay, beating forever withthe muffled oars of Barton and ofAbraham Whipple; here, thehumming city of the living; there,the peaceful city of the dead;—notto these only or chiefly do wereturn, but to ourselves as we oncewere. It is not the smiling freshmenof the year, it is your own beardlessand unwrinkled faces, that arelooking from the windows ofUniversity Hall and of HopeCollege. Under the trees upon thehill it is yourselves whom you seewalking, full of hopes and dreams,

glowing with conscious power, and"nourishing a youth sublime;" andin this familiar temple, whichsurely has never echoed witheloquence so fervid and inspiringas that of your commencementorations, it is not yonder youths inthe galleries who, as they fondlybelieve, are whispering to yondermaids; it is your younger selveswho, in the days that are no more,are murmuring to the fairestmothers and grandmothers of thosemaids.Happy the worn and weary man andwoman in the picture could theyhave felt their older eyes stillglistening with that earlier light,

and their hearts yet beating withundiminished sympathy andaspiration. Happy we, brethren,whatever may have been achieved,whatever left undone, if, returningto the home of our earlier years, webring with us the illimitable hope,the unchilled resolution, theinextinguishable faith of youth.

—George William Curtis.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Clip from any source ten anecdotes

and state what truths they may be used toillustrate.

2. Deliver five of these in your own

language, without making anyapplication.

3. From the ten, deliver one so as tomake the application before telling theanecdote.

4. Deliver another so as to split theapplication.

5. Deliver another so as to make theapplication after the narration.

6. Deliver another in such a way as tomake a specific application needless.

7. Give three ways of introducing ananecdote, by saying where you heard it,etc.

8. Deliver an illustration that is notstrictly an anecdote, in the style ofCurtis's speech on page 259.

9. Deliver an address on any public

character, using the forms illustrated inthis chapter.

10. Deliver an address on somehistorical event in the same manner.

11. Explain how the sympathies andviewpoint of the speaker will color ananecdote, a biography, or a historicalaccount.

12. Illustrate how the same anecdote,or a section of a historical address, maybe given two different effects bypersonal prejudice.

13. What would be the effect ofshifting the viewpoint in the midst of anarration?

14. What is the danger of using toomuch humor in an address? Too muchpathos?

22ChapterINFLUENCING BYSUGGESTION

Sometimes the feeling that a givenway of looking at things isundoubtedly correct prevents themind from thinking at all… . Inview of the hindrances whichcertain kinds or degrees of feelingthrow into the way of thinking, it

might be inferred that the thinkermust suppress the element offeeling in the inner life. No greatermistake could be made. If theCreator endowed man with thepower to think, to feel, and to will,these several activities of the mindare not designed to be in conflict,and so long as any one of them isnot perverted or allowed to run toexcess, it necessarily aids andstrengthens the others in theirnormal functions.

—Nathan C. Schaeffer, Thinkingand Learning to Think.

When we weigh, compare, and decideupon the value of any given ideas, we

reason; when an idea produces in us anopinion or an action, without first beingsubjected to deliberation, we are movedby suggestion.

Man was formerly thought to be areasoning animal, basing his actions onthe conclusions of natural logic. It wassupposed that before forming an opinionor deciding on a course of conduct heweighed at least some of the reasons forand against the matter, and performed amore or less simple process ofreasoning. But modern research hasshown that quite the opposite is true.Most of our opinions and actions are notbased upon conscious reasoning, but arethe result of suggestion. In fact, someauthorities declare that an act of pure

reasoning is very rare in the averagemind. Momentous decisions arem a d e , far-reaching actions aredetermined upon, primarily by the forceof suggestion.

Notice that word "primarily," forsimple thought, and even maturereasoning, often follows a suggestionaccepted in the mind, and the thinkerfondly supposes that his conclusion isfrom first to last based on cold logic.

The Basis of SuggestionWe must think of suggestion both as an

effect and as a cause. Considered as aneffect, or objectively, there must besomething in the hearer that predisposeshim to receive suggestion; considered asa cause, or subjectively, there must be

some methods by which the speaker canmove upon that particularly susceptibleattitude of the hearer. How to do thishonestly and fairly is our problem—todo it dishonestly and trickily, to usesuggestion to bring about conviction andaction without a basis of right and truthand in a bad cause, is to assume theterrible responsibility that must fall onthe champion of error. Jesus scorned notto use suggestion so that he might movemen to their benefit, but every vicioustrickster has adopted the same means toreach base ends. Therefore honest menwill examine well into their motives andinto the truth of their cause, beforeseeking to influence men by suggestion.

Three fundamental conditions make us

all susceptive to suggestion:We naturally respect authority. In

every mind this is only a question ofdegree, ranging from the subject who iseasily hypnotized to the stubborn mindthat fortifies itself the more strongly withevery assault upon its opinion. The lattertype is almost immune to suggestion.

One of the singular things aboutsuggestion is that it is rarely a fixedquantity. The mind that is receptive tothe authority of a certain person mayprove inflexible to another; moods andenvironments that produce hypnosisreadily in one instance may be entirelyinoperative in another; and some mindscan scarcely ever be thus moved. We doknow, however, that the feeling of the

subject that authority—influence, power,domination, control, whatever you wishto call it—lies in the person of thesuggester, is the basis of all suggestion.

The extreme force of this influence isdemonstrated in hypnotism. The hypnoticsubject is told that he is in the water; heaccepts the statement as true and makesswimming motions. He is told that aband is marching down the street,playing "The Star Spangled Banner;" hedeclares he hears the music, arises andstands with head bared.

In the same way some speakers areable to achieve a modified hypnoticeffect upon their audiences. The hearerswill applaud measures and ideas which,after individual reflection, they will

repudiate unless such reflection bringsthe conviction that the first impression iscorrect.

A second important principle istha t our feelings, thoughts and willstend to follow the line of leastresistance. Once open the mind to thesway of one feeling and it requires agreater power of feeling, thought, or will—or even all three—to unseat it. Ourfeelings influence our judgments andvolitions much more than we care toadmit. So true is this that it is asuperhuman task to get an audience toreason fairly on a subject on which itfeels deeply, and when this result isaccomplished the success becomesnoteworthy, as in the case of Henry

Ward Beecher's Liverpool speech.Emotional ideas once accepted are sooncherished, and finally become our veryinmost selves. Attitudes based onfeelings alone are prejudices.

What is true of our feelings, in thisrespect, applies to our ideas: Allthoughts that enter the mind tend to beaccepted as truth unless a stronger andcontradictory thought arises.

The speaker skilled in moving men toaction manages to dominate the minds ofhis audience with his thoughts by subtlyprohibiting the entertaining of ideashostile to his own. Most of us arecaptured by the latest strong attack, andif we can be induced to act while underthe stress of that last insistent thought,

we lose sight of counter influences. Thefact is that almost all our decisions—ifthey involve thought at all—are of thissort: At the moment of decision thecourse of action then undercontemplation usurps the attention, andconflicting ideas are dropped out ofconsideration.

The head of a large publishing houseremarked only recently that ninety percent of the people who bought books bysubscription never read them. They buybecause the salesman presents his waresso skillfully that every consideration butthe attractiveness of the book drops outof the mind, and that thought promptsaction. Every idea that enters the mindwill result in action unless a

contradictory thought arises to prohibitit. Think of singing the musical scale andit will result in your singing it unless thecounter-thought of its futility or absurdityinhibits your action. If you bandage and"doctor" a horse's foot, he will go lame.You cannot think of swallowing, withoutthe muscles used in that process beingaffected. You cannot think of saying"hello," without a slight movement of themuscles of speech. To warn children thatthey should not put beans up their nosesis the surest method of getting them to doit. Every thought called up in the mind ofyour audience will work either for oragainst you. Thoughts are not deadmatter; they radiate dynamic energy—thethoughts all tend to pass into action.

"Thought is another name for fate."Dominate your hearers' thoughts, allayall contradictory ideas, and you willsway them as you wish.

Volitions as well as feelings andthoughts tend to follow the line of leastresistance. That is what makes habit.Suggest to a man that it is impossible tochange his mind and in most cases itbecomes more difficult to do so—theexception is the man who naturallyjumps to the contrary. Countersuggestion is the only way to reach him.Suggest subtly and persistently that theopinions of those in the audience whoare opposed to your views are changing,and it requires an effort of the will—infact, a summoning of the forces of

feeling, thought and will—to stem thetide of change that has subconsciouslyset in.

But, not only are we moved byauthority, and tend toward channels ofleast resistance: We are all influencedb y our environments. It is difficult torise above the sway of a crowd—itsenthusiasms and its fears are contagiousbecause they are suggestive. What somany feel, we say to ourselves, musthave some basis in truth. Ten times tenmakes more than one hundred. Set tenmen to speaking to ten audiences of tenmen each, and compare the aggregatepower of those ten speakers with that ofone man addressing one hundred men.The ten speakers may be more logically

convincing than the single orator, but thechances are strongly in favor of the oneman's reaching a greater total effect, forthe hundred men will radiate convictionand resolution as ten small groups couldnot. We all know the truism about theenthusiasm of numbers. (See the chapteron "Influencing the Crowd.")

Environment controls us unless thecontrary is strongly suggested. A gloomyday, in a drab room, sparsely tenantedby listeners, invites platform disaster.Everyone feels it in the air. But let thespeaker walk squarely up to the issueand suggest by all his feeling, mannerand words that this is going to be a greatgathering in every vital sense, and seehow the suggestive power of

environment recedes before the advanceof a more potent suggestion—if such thespeaker is able to make it.

Now these three factors—respect forauthority, tendency to follow lines ofleast resistance, and susceptibility toenvironment—all help to bring theauditor into a state of mind favorable tosuggestive influences, but they also reacton the speaker, and now we mustconsider those personally causative, orsubjective, forces which enable him touse suggestion effectively.

How the Speaker Can MakeSuggestion Effective

We have seen that under the influenceof authoritative suggestion the audienceis inclined to accept the speaker's

assertion without argument andcriticism. But the audience is not in thisstate of mind unless it has implicitconfidence in the speaker. If they lackfaith in him, question his motives orknowledge, or even object to his mannerthey will not be moved by his mostlogical conclusion and will fail to givehim a just hearing. It is all a matter oftheir confidence in him. Whether thespeaker finds it already in the warm,expectant look of his hearers, or mustwin to it against opposition or coldness,he must gain that one great vantage pointbefore his suggestions take on power inthe hearts of his listeners. Confidence isthe mother of Conviction.

Note in the opening of Henry W.

Grady's after-dinner speech how heattempted to secure the confidence of hisaudience. He created a receptiveatmosphere by a humorous story;expressed his desire to speak withearnestness and sincerity; acknowledged"the vast interests involved;" deprecatedhis "untried arm," and professed hishumility. Would not such an introductiongive you confidence in the speaker,unless you were strongly opposed tohim? And even then, would it not partlydisarm your antagonism?

Mr. President:—Bidden by yourinvitation to a discussion of therace problem—forbidden byoccasion to make a political speech

—I appreciate, in trying toreconcile orders with propriety, theperplexity of the little maid, who,bidden to learn to swim, was yetadjured, "Now, go, my darling;hang your clothes on a hickorylimb, and don't go near the water."The stoutest apostle of the Church,they say, is the missionary, and themissionary, wherever he unfurls hisflag, will never find himself indeeper need of unction and addressthan I, bidden tonight to plant thestandard of a Southern Democrat inBoston's banquet hall, and todiscuss the problem of the races inthe home of Phillips and of Sumner.But, Mr. President, if a purpose to

speak in perfect frankness andsincerity; if earnest understandingof the vast interests involved; if aconsecrating sense of what disastermay follow furthermisunderstanding and estrangement;if these may be counted to steadyundisciplined speech and tostrengthen an untried arm—then,sir, I shall find the courage toproceed.

Note also Mr. Bryan's attempt tosecure the confidence of his audience inthe following introduction to his "Crossof Gold" speech delivered before theNational Democratic Convention inChicago, 1896. He asserts his own

inability to oppose the "distinguishedgentleman;" he maintains the holiness ofhis cause; and he declares that he willspeak in the interest of humanity—wellknowing that humanity is likely to haveconfidence in the champion of theirrights. This introduction completelydominated the audience, and the speechmade Mr. Bryan famous.

Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen of theConvention: I would bepresumptuous indeed to presentmyself against the distinguishedgentlemen to whom you havelistened if this were a meremeasuring of abilities; but this isnot a contest between persons. The

humblest citizen in all the land,when clad in the armor of arighteous cause, is stronger than allthe hosts of error. I come to speakto you in defense of a cause as holyas the cause of liberty—the causeof humanity.

Some speakers are able to begetconfidence by their very manner, whileothers can not.

To secure confidence, beconfident. How can you expect others toaccept a message in which you lack, orseem to lack, faith yourself? Confidenceis as contagious as disease. Napoleonrebuked an officer for using the word"impossible" in his presence. The

speaker who will entertain no idea ofdefeat begets in his hearers the idea ofhis victory. Lady Macbeth was soconfident of success that Macbethchanged his mind about undertaking theassassination. Columbus was so certainin his mission that Queen Isabellapawned her jewels to finance hisexpedition. Assert your message withimplicit assurance, and your own beliefwill act as so much gunpowder to driveit home.

Advertisers have long utilized thisprinciple. "The machine you willeventually buy," "Ask the man who ownsone," "Has the strength of Gibraltar," arepublicity slogans so full of confidencethat they give birth to confidence in the

mind of the reader.It should—but may not!—go without

saying that confidence must have a solidground of merit or there will be aridiculous crash. It is all very well forthe "spellbinder" to claim all theprecincts—the official count is justahead. The reaction against over-confidence and over-suggestion ought towarn those whose chief asset is merebluff.

A short time ago a speaker arose in apublic-speaking club and asserted thatgrass would spring from wood-ashessprinkled over the soil, without the aidof seed. This idea was greeted with alaugh, but the speaker was so sure of hisposition that he reiterated the statement

forcefully several times and cited hisown personal experience as proof. Oneof the most intelligent men in theaudience, who at first had derided theidea, at length came to believe in it.When asked the reason for his suddenchange of attitude, he replied: "Becausethe speaker is so confident." In fact, hewas so confident that it took a letter fromthe U.S. Department of Agriculture todislodge his error.

If by a speaker's confidence,intelligent men can be made to believesuch preposterous theories as this wherewill the power of self-reliance ceasewhen plausible propositions are underconsideration, advanced with all thepower of convincing speech?

Note the utter assurance in theseselections:

I know not what course others maytake, but as for me give me libertyor give me death.—Patrick Henry.I ne'er will ask ye quarter, and Ine'er will be your slave;But I'll swim the sea of slaughter,till I sink beneath its wave.

—Patten.Come one, come all. This rockshall flyFrom its firm base as soon as I.

—Sir Walter ScottINVICTUS

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to

pole,I thank whatever Gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor criedaloud;Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath andtears Looms but the Horror of theshade,And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishmentsthe scroll,I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.

—William Ernest Henley.

Authority is a factor insuggestion. We generally accept astruth, and without criticism, the words ofan authority. When he speaks,contradictory ideas rarely arise in themind to inhibit the action he suggests. Ajudge of the Supreme Court has thepower of his words multiplied by thevirtue of his position. The ideas of theU.S. Commissioner of Immigration onhis subject are much more effective andpowerful than those of a soap

manufacturer, though the latter may be anable economist.

This principle also has been used inadvertising. We are told that thephysicians to two Kings haverecommended Sanatogen. We areinformed that the largest bank inAmerica, Tiffany and Co., and The State,War, and Navy Departments, all use theEncyclopedia Britannica. The shrewdpromoter gives stock in his company toinfluential bankers or business men inthe community in order that he may usetheir examples as a selling argument.

If you wish to influence your audiencethrough suggestion, if you would haveyour statements accepted withoutcriticism or argument, you should appear

in the light of an authority—and be one.Ignorance and credulity will remainunchanged unless the suggestion ofauthority be followed promptly by facts.Don't claim authority unless you carryyour license in your pocket. Let reasonsupport the position that suggestion hasassumed.

Advertising will help to establishyour reputation—it is "up to you" tomaintain it. One speaker found that hisreputation as a magazine writer was asplendid asset as a speaker. Mr. Bryan'spublicity, gained by three nominationsfor the presidency and his position asSecretary of State, helps him tocommand large sums as a speaker. But—back of it all, he is a great speaker.

Newspaper announcements, all kinds ofadvertising, formality, impressiveintroductions, all have a capital effect onthe attitude of the audience. But howridiculous are all these if a toy pistol isadvertised as a sixteen-inch gun!

Note how authority is used in thefollowing to support the strength of thespeaker's appeal:

Professor Alfred Russell Wallacehas just celebrated his 90thbirthday. Sharing with CharlesDarwin the honor of discoveringevolution, Professor Wallace haslately received many and signalhonors from scientific societies. Atthe dinner given him in London his

address was largely made up ofreminiscences. He reviewed theprogress of civilization during thelast century and made a series ofbrilliant and startling contrastsbetween the England of 1813 andthe world of 1913. He affirmed thatour progress is only seeming andnot real. Professor Wallace insiststhat the painters, the sculptors, thearchitects of Athens and Romewere so superior to the modern menthat the very fragments of theirmarbles and temples are thedespair of the present day artists.He tells us that man has improvedhis telescope and spectacles, butthat he is losing his eyesight; that

man is improving his looms, butstiffening his fingers; improving hisautomobile and his locomotive, butlosing his legs; improving hisfoods, butlosing his digestion. Headds that the modern white slavetraffic, orphan asylums, andtenement house life in factorytowns, make a black page in thehistory of the twentieth century.Professor Wallace's views arereinforced by the report of thecommission of Parliament on thecauses of the deterioration of thefactory-class people. In our owncountry Professor Jordan warns usagainst war, intemperance,overworking, underfeeding of poor

children, and disturbs ourcontentment with his "Harvest ofBlood." Professor Jenks is morepessimistic. He thinks that the pace,the climate, and the stress of citylife, have broken down the Puritanstock, that in another century ourold families will be extinct, andthat the flood of immigration meansa Niagara of muddy waters foulingthe pure springs of American life.In his address in New HavenProfessor Kellogg calls the roll ofthe signs of race degeneracy andtells us that this deterioration evenindicates a trend toward raceextinction.

—Newell Dwight Hillis.

From every side come warnings tothe American people. Our medicaljournals are filled with dangersignals; new books and magazines,fresh from the press, tell us plainlythat our people are fronting a socialcrisis. Mr. Jefferson, who was onceregarded as good Democraticauthority, seems to have differed inopinion from the gentleman whohas addressed us on the part of theminority. Those who are opposedto this proposition tell us that theissue of paper money is a functionof the bank, and that the governmentought to go out of the bankingbusiness. I stand with Jeffersonrather than with them, and tell them,

as he did, that the issue of money isa function of government, and thatthe banks ought to go out of thegoverning business.

—William Jennings Bryan.

Authority is the great weapon againstdoubt, but even its force can rarelyprevail against prejudice and persistentwrong-headedness. If any speaker hasbeen able to forge a sword that iswarranted to piece such armor, let himbless humanity by sharing his secret withhis platform brethren everywhere, forthus far he is alone in his glory.

There is a middle-ground between thesuggestion of authority and theconfession of weakness that offers a

wide range for tact in the speaker. Noone can advise you when to throw your"hat in the ring" and say defiantly at theoutstart, "Gentlemen, I am here to fight!"Theodore Roosevelt can do that—Beecher would have been mobbed if hehad begun in that style at Liverpool. It isfor your own tact to decide whether youwill use the disarming grace of HenryW. Grady's introduction just quoted(even the time-worn joke was ingenuousand seemed to say, "Gentlemen, I cometo you with no carefully-palmed coins"),or whether the solemn gravity of Mr.Bryan before the Convention will proveto be more effective. Only be sure thatyour opening attitude is well thought out,and if it change as you warm up to your

subject, let not the change lay you opento a revulsion of feeling in youraudience.

Example is a powerful means ofsuggestion. As we saw while thinking ofenvironment in its effects on anaudience, we do, without the usualamount of hesitation and criticism, whatothers are doing. Paris wears certainhats and gowns; the rest of the worldimitates. The child mimics the actions,accents and intonations of the parent.Were a child never to hear anyonespeak, he would never acquire thepower of speech, unless under mostarduous training, and even then onlyimperfectly. One of the biggestdepartment stores in the United States

spends fortunes on one advertisingslogan: "Everybody is going to the bigstore." That makes everybody want togo.

You can reinforce the power of yourmessage by showing that it has beenwidely accepted. Political organizationssubsidize applause to create theimpression that their speakers' ideas arewarmly received and approved by theaudience. The advocates of thecommission-form of government ofcities, the champions of votes forwomen, reserve as their strongestarguments the fact that a number of citiesand states have already successfullyaccepted their plans. Advertisements usethe testimonial for its power of

suggestion.Observe how this principle has been

applied in the following selections, andutilize it on every occasion possible inyour attempts to influence throughsuggestion:

The war is actually begun. The nextgale that sweeps from the Northwill bring to our ears the clash ofresounding arms. Our brethren arealready in the field. Why stand yehere idle?

—Patrick Henry.With a zeal approaching the zealwhich inspired the Crusaders whofollowed Peter the Hermit, oursilver Democrats went forth from

victory unto victory until they arenow assembled, not to discuss, notto debate, but to enter up thejudgment already rendered by theplain people of this country. In thiscontest brother has been arrayedagainst brother, father against son.The warmest ties of love,acquaintance, and association havebeen disregarded; old leaders havebeen cast aside when they refusedto give expression to the sentimentsof those whom they would lead,and new leaders have sprung up togive direction to this cause of truth.Thus has the contest been waged,and we have assembled here underas binding and solemn instructions

as were ever imposed uponrepresentatives of the people.

—William Jennings Bryan.

Figurative and indirect language hassuggestive force, because it does notmake statements that can be directlydisputed. It arouses no contradictoryideas in the minds of the audience,thereby fulfilling one of the basicrequisites of suggestion. By implying aconclusion in indirect or figurativelanguage it is often asserted mostforcefully.

Note that in the following Mr. Bryandid not say that Mr. McKinley would bedefeated. He implied it in a much moreeffective manner:

Mr. McKinley was nominated at St.Louis upon a platform which declaredfor the maintenance of the gold standarduntil it can be changed into bimetallismby international agreement. Mr.McKinley was the most popular manamong the Republicans, and threemonths ago everybody in the Republicanparty prophesied his election. How is ittoday? Why, the man who was oncepleased to think that he looked likeNapoleon—that man shudders todaywhen he remembers that he wasnominated on the anniversary of thebattle of Waterloo. Not only that, but ashe listens he can hear with ever-increasing distinctness the sound of thewaves as they beat upon the lonely

shores of St. Helena.Had Thomas Carlyle said: "A false

man cannot found a religion," his wordswould have been neither so suggestivenor so powerful, nor so longremembered as his implication in thesestriking words:

A false man found a religion? Why, afalse man cannot build a brick house! Ifhe does not know and follow truly theproperties of mortar, burnt clay, andwhat else he works in, it is no house thathe makes, but a rubbish heap. It will notstand for twelve centuries, to lodge ahundred and eighty millions; it will fallstraightway. A man must conformhimself to Nature's laws, be verily incommunion with Nature and the truth of

things, or Nature will answer him, No,not at all!

Observe how the picture that Websterdraws here is much more emphatic andforceful than any mere assertion couldbe:

Sir, I know not how others may feel,but as for myself when I see my almamater surrounded, like Caesar in thesenate house, by those who arereiterating stab after stab, I would notfor this right hand have her turn to meand say, "And thou, too, my son!"—Webster.

A speech should be built on soundlogical foundations, and no man shoulddare to speak in behalf of a fallacy.Arguing a subject, however, will

necessarily arouse contradictory ideas inthe mind of your audience. Whenimmediate action or persuasion isdesired, suggestion is more efficaciousthan argument—when both arejudiciously mixed, the effect isirresistible.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Make an outline, or brief, of the

contents of this chapter.2. Revise the introduction to any of

your written addresses, with theteachings of this chapter in mind.

3. Give two original examples of thepower of suggestion as you haveobserved it in each of these fields: (a)

advertising; (b) politics; (c) publicsentiment.

4. Give original examples ofsuggestive speech, illustrating two of theprinciples set forth in this chapter.

5. What reasons can you give thatdisprove the general contention of thischapter?

6. What reasons not already givenseem to you to support it?

7. What effect do his own suggestionshave on the speaker himself?

8. Can suggestion arise from theaudience? If so, show how.

9. Select two instances of suggestionin the speeches found in the Appendix.

10. Change any two passages in thesame, or other, speeches so as to use

suggestion more effectively.11. Deliver those passages in the

revised form.12. Choosing your own subject,

prepare and deliver a short speechlargely in the suggestive style.

23ChapterINFLUENCING BYARGUMENT

Common sense is the commonsense of mankind. It is the productof common observation andexperience. It is modest, plain, andunsophisticated. It sees witheverybody's eyes, and hears witheverybody's ears. It has no

capricious distinctions, noperplexities, and no mysteries. Itnever equivocates, and nevertrifles. Its language is alwaysintelligible. It is known byclearness of speech and singlenessof purpose.—George Jacob Holyoake, Public

Speaking and Debate.

The very name of logic is awesome tomost young speakers, but so soon as theycome to realize that its processes, evenwhen most intricate, are merelytechnical statements of the truthsenforced by common sense, it will loseits terrors. In fact, logic[26] is afascinating subject, well worth the

public speaker's study, for it explains theprinciples that govern the use ofargument and proof.

Argumentation is the process ofproducing conviction by means ofreasoning. Other ways of producingconviction there are, notably suggestion,as we have just shown, but no means isso high, so worthy of respect, as theadducing of sound reasons in support ofa contention.

Since more than one side of a subjectmust be considered before we can claimto have deliberated upon it fairly, weought to think of argumentation undertwo aspects: building up an argument,and tearing down an argument; that is,you must not only examine into the

stability of your structure of argument sothat it may both support the propositionyou intend to probe and yet be so soundthat it cannot be overthrown byopponents, but you must also be so keento detect defects in argument that youwill be able to demolish the weakerarguments of those who argue againstyou.

We can consider argumentation onlygenerally, leaving minute and technicaldiscussions to such excellent works asGeorge P. Baker's "The Principles ofArgumentation," and George JacobHolyoake's "Public Speaking andDebate." Any good college rhetoric alsowill give help on the subject, especiallythe works of John Franklin Genung and

Adams Sherman Hill. The student isurged to familiarize himself with at leastone of these texts.

The following series of questionswill, it is hoped, serve a triple purpose:that of suggesting the forms of prooftogether with the ways in which theymay be used; that of helping the speakerto test the strength of his arguments; andthat of enabling the speaker to attack hisopponent's arguments with both keennessand justice.

TESTING AN ARGUMENT

I. The Question Under Discussion 1. Is it clearly stated? (a) Do the terms of statement mean

the same to each disputant? (Forexample, the meaning of the term"gentleman" may not be mutually agreedupon.)

(b) Is confusion likely to arise as toits purpose?

2. Is it fairly stated? (a) Does it include enough? (b) Does it include too much? (c) Is it stated so as to contain a trap? 3. Is it a debatable question? 4. What is the pivotal point in the

whole question? 5. What are the subordinate points?II. The Evidence 1. The witnesses as to facts (a) Is each witness impartial? What

is his relation to the subject at issue?

(b) Is he mentally competent? (c) Is he morally credible? (d) Is he in a position to know the

facts? Is he an eye-witness? (e) Is he a willing witness? (f) Is his testimony contradicted? (g) Is his testimony corroborated? (h) Is his testimony contrary to well-

known facts or general principles? (i) Is it probable? 2. The authorities cited as evidence (a) Is the authority well-recognized

as such? (b) What constitutes him an authority? (c) Is his interest in the case an

impartial one? (d) Does he state his opinion

positively and clearly?

(e) Are the non-personal authoritiescited (books, etc.) reliable andunprejudiced?

3. The facts adduced as evidence (a) Are they sufficient in number to

constitute proof? (b) Are they weighty enough in

character? (c) Are they in harmony with reason? (d) Are they mutually harmonious or

contradictory? (e) Are they admitted, doubted, or

disputed? 4. The principles adduced as

evidence (a) Are they axiomatic? (b) Are they truths of general

experience?

(c) Are they truths of specialexperience?

(d) Are they truths arrived at byexperiment? Were such experimentsspecial or general? Were theexperiments authoritative andconclusive?

III. The Reasoning 1. Inductions (a) Are the facts numerous enough to

warrant accepting the generalization asbeing conclusive?

(b) Do the facts agree only whenconsidered in the light of thisexplanation as a conclusion?

(c) Have you overlooked anycontradictory facts?

(d) Are the contradictory facts

sufficiently explained when thisinference is accepted as true?

(e) Are all contrary positions shownto be relatively untenable?

(f) Have you accepted mere opinionsas facts?

2. Deductions (a) Is the law or general principle a

well-established one? (b) Does the law or principle clearly

include the fact you wish to deduce fromit, or have you strained the inference?

(c) Does the importance of the law orprinciple warrant so important aninference?

(d) Can the deduction be shown toprove too much?

3. Parallel cases

(a) Are the cases parallel at enoughpoints to warrant an inference of similarcause or effect?

(b) Are the cases parallel at the vitalpoint at issue?

(c) Has the parallelism beenstrained?

(d) Are there no other parallels thatwould point to a stronger contraryconclusion?

4. Inferences (a) Are the antecedent conditions

such as would make the allegationprobable? (Character and opportunitiesof the accused, for example.)

(b) Are the signs that point to theinference either clear or numerousenough to warrant its acceptance as fact?

(c) Are the signs cumulative, andagreeable one with the other?

(d) Could the signs be made to pointto a contrary conclusion?

5. Syllogisms (a) Have any steps been omitted in

the syllogisms? (Such as in asyllogism in enthymeme.) If so, test anysuch by filling out the syllogisms.

(b) Have you been guilty of stating aconclusion that really does not follow?(A non sequitur.)

(c) Can your syllogism be reduced toan absurdity? (Reductio ad absurdum.)

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Show why an unsupported assertion

is not an argument.2. Illustrate how an irrelevant fact

may be made to seem to support anargument.

3. What inferences may justly be madefrom the following?

During the Boer War it was foundthat the average Englishman did notmeasure up to the standards ofrecruiting and the average soldierin the field manifested a low planeof vitality and endurance.Parliament, alarmed by thedisastrous consequences, institutedan investigation. The commissionappointed brought in a finding thatalcoholic poisoning was the great

cause of the national degeneracy.The investigations of thecommission have beensupplemented by investigations ofscientific bodies and individualscientists, all arriving at the sameconclusion. As a consequence, theBritish Government has placardedthe streets of a hundred cities withbillboards setting forth thedestructive and degenerating natureof alcohol and appealing to thepeople in the name of the nation todesist from drinking alcoholicbeverages. Under efforts directedby the Government the BritishArmy is fast becoming an army oftotal abstainers.

The Governments of continentalEurope followed the lead of theBritish Government. The FrenchGovernment has placarded Francewith appeals to the people,attributing the decline of the birthrate and increase in the death rateto the widespread use of alcoholicbeverages. The experience of theGerman Government has been thesame. The German Emperor hasclearly stated that leadership in warand in peace will be held by thenation that roots out alcohol. He hasundertaken to eliminate even thedrinking of beer, so far as possible,from the German Army and Navy.—Richmond Pearson

Hobson, Before the U.S. Congress.

4. Since the burden of proof lies onhim who attacks a position, or argues fora change in affairs, how would hisopponent be likely to conduct his ownpart of a debate?

5. Define (a) syllogism; (b) rebuttal;(c) "begging the question;" (d) premise;(e) rejoinder; (f) sur-rejoinder; (g)dilemma; (h) induction; (i) deduction;(j) a priori; (k) a posteriori; (l)inference.

6. Criticise this reasoning:

Men ought not to smoke tobacco,because to do so is contrary to bestmedical opinion. My physician hasexpressly condemned the practise,

and is a medical authority in thiscountry.

7. Criticise this reasoning:

Men ought not to swear profanely,because it is wrong. It is wrong forthe reason that it is contrary to theMoral Law, and it is contrary to theMoral Law because it is contrary tothe Scriptures. It is contrary to theScriptures because it is contrary tothe will of God, and we know it iscontrary to God's will because it iswrong.

8. Criticise this syllogism:

MAJOR PREMISE: All men who

have no cares are happy.MINOR PREMISE: Slovenly menare careless.CONCLUSION: Therefore,slovenly men are happy.

9. Criticise the following major, orfoundation, premises:

All is not gold that glitters.All cold may be expelled by fire.

10. Criticise the following fallacy(non sequitur):

MAJOR PREMISE: All strong menadmire strength.MINOR PREMISE: This man is notstrong.

CONCLUSION: Therefore this mandoes not admire strength.

11. Criticise these statements:

Sleep is beneficial on account of itssoporific qualities.Fiske's histories are authenticbecause they contain accurateaccounts of American history, andwe know that they are true accountsfor otherwise they would not becontained in these authentic works.

12. What do you understand from theterms "reasoning from effect to cause"and "from cause to effect?" Giveexamples.

13. What principle did Richmond

Pearson Hobson employ in thefollowing?

What is the police power of theStates? The police power of theFederal Government or the State—any sovereign State—has beendefined. Take the definition givenby Blackstone, which is:The due regulation and domesticorder of the Kingdom, whereby theinhabitants of a State, like membersof a well-governed family, arebound to conform their generalbehavior to the rules of propriety,of neighborhood and good manners,and to be decent, industrious, andinoffensive in their respective

stations.Would this amendment interferewith any State carrying on thepromotion of its domestic order?Or you can take the definition inanother form, in which it is givenby Mr. Tiedeman, when he says:The object of government is toimpose that degree of restraint uponhuman actions which is necessaryto a uniform, reasonable enjoymentof private rights. The power of thegovernment to impose this restraintis called the police power.Judge Cooley says of the liquortraffic:The business of manufacturing andselling liquor is one that affects the

public interests in many ways andleads to many disorders. It has atendency to increase pauperism andcrime. It renders a large force ofpeace officers essential, and it addsto the expense of the courts and ofnearly all branches of civiladministration.Justice Bradley, of the UnitedStates Supreme Court, says:Licenses may be properly requiredin the pursuit of many professionsand avocations, which requirepeculiar skill and training orsupervision for the public welfare.The profession or avocation isopen to all alike who will preparethemselves with the requisite

qualifications or give the requisitesecurity for preserving publicorder. This is in harmony with thegeneral proposition that theordinary pursuits of life, formingthe greater per cent of the industrialpursuits, are and ought to be freeand open to all, subject only to suchgeneral regulations, applyingequally to all, as the general goodmay demand.All such regulations are entirelycompetent for the legislature tomake and are in no sense anabridgment of the equal rights ofcitizens. But a license to do thatwhich is odious and againstcommon right is necessarily an

outrage upon the equal rights ofcitizens.

14. What method did Jesus employ inthe following:

Ye are the salt of the earth; but ifthe salt have lost his savour,wherewith shall it be salted? It isthenceforth good for nothing but tobe cast out, and to be trodden underfoot of men.Behold the fowls of the air; for theysow not, neither do they reap norgather into barns; yet your heavenlyFather feedeth them. Are ye notmuch better than they?And why take ye thought forraiment? Consider the lilies of the

field; how they grow; they toil not,neither do they spin; And yet I sayunto you, that even Solomon in allhis glory was not arrayed like oneof these. Wherefore, if God soclothe the grass of the field, whichtoday is, and tomorrow is cast intothe oven, shall he not much moreclothe you, O ye of little faith?Or what man is there of you, whomif his son ask bread, will he givehim a stone? Or if he ask a fish,will he give him a serpent? If yethen, being evil, know how to givegood gifts unto your children, howmuch more shall your Father whichis in heaven give good things tothem that ask him?

15. Make five originalsyllogisms[27] on the following models:

Major Premise: He whoadministers arsenic givespoison. Minor Premise: Theprisoner administered arsenic to thevictim. Conclusion: Therefore theprisoner is a poisoner.Major Premise: All dogs arequadrupeds. Minor Premise: Thisanimal is a biped. Conclusion:Therefore this animal is not a dog.

16. Prepare either the positive or thenegative side of the following questionfor debate: The recall of judges shouldbe adopted as a national principle.

17. Is this questiondebatable? Benedict Arnold was agentleman. Give reasons for youranswer.

18. Criticise any street or dinner-tableargument you have heard recently.

19. Test the reasoning of any of thespeeches given in this volume.

20. Make a short speech arguing infavor of instruction in public speaking inthe public evening schools.

21. (a) Clip a newspaper editorial inwhich the reasoning is weak. (b)Criticise it. (c) Correct it.

22. Make a list of three subjects fordebate, selected from the monthlymagazines.

23. Do the same from the newspapers.

24. Choosing your own question andside, prepare a brief suitable for a ten-minute debating argument. The followingmodels of briefs may help you:

DEBATEResolved: That armed intervention is

not justifiable on the part of any nationto collect, on behalf ofprivate individuals, financial claimsagainst any American nation.[28]

Brief of Affirmative ArgumentFirst speaker—Chafee

Armed intervention for collectionof private claims from anyAmerican nation is not justifiable,for1. It is wrong in principle, because

(a) It violates the fundamentalprinciples of international law fora very slight cause(b) It is contrary to the properfunction of the State, and(c) It is contrary to justice, sinceclaims are exaggerated.

Second speaker—Hurley

2. It is disastrous in its results,because(a) It incurs danger of graveinternational complications(b) It tends to increase the burdenof debt in the SouthAmerican republics(c) It encourages a waste of theworld's capital, and

(d) It disturbs peace and stability inSouth America.

Third speaker—Bruce

3. It is unnecessary to collect inthis way, because(a) Peaceful methods havesucceeded(b) If these should fail, claimsshould be settled by TheHague Tribunal(c) The fault has always been withEuropean States when force hasbeen used, and(d) In any case, force should not beused, for it counteractsthe movement towards peace.

Brief of Negative ArgumentFirst speaker—Branch

Armed intervention for thecollection of private financialclaims against some AmericanStates is justifiable, for1. When other means of collectionhave failed, armedintervention against any nation isessentially proper, because (a) Justice should always besecured (b) Non-enforcement of paymentputs a premium on dishonesty (c) Intervention for this purpose issanctioned by the best internationalauthority

(d) Danger of undue collection isslight and can be avoided entirelyby submission of claims to TheHague Tribunal before intervening.

Second speaker—Stone

2. Armed intervention is necessaryto secure justice intropical America, for (a) The governments of this sectionconstantly repudiate just debts (b) They insist that the finaldecision about claims shall restwith their own corrupt courts (c) They refuse to arbitratesometimes.

Third speaker—Dennett

3. Armed intervention is beneficialin its results, because(a) It inspires responsibility(b) In administering custom housesit removes temptation torevolutions(c) It gives confidence to desirablecapital.

Among others, the following bookswere used in the preparation of thearguments:

N. "The Monroe Doctrine," by T.B.Edgington. Chapters 22-28."Digest of International Law," byJ.B. Moore. Report of Penfieldof proceedings before HagueTribunal in 1903.

"Statesman's Year Book" (forstatistics).A. Minister Drago's appeal to theUnited States, in Foreign Relationsof United States, 1903.President Roosevelt's Message,1905, pp. 33-37.

And articles in the followingmagazines (among many others):

"Journal of Political Economy,"December, 1906."Atlantic Monthly," October, 1906."North American Review," Vol.183, p. 602.

All of these contain material valuablefor both sides, except those marked "N"

and "A," which are useful only for thenegative and affirmative, respectively.

Note:—Practise in debating is mosthelpful to the public speaker, but ifpossible each debate should be under thesupervision of some person whose wordwill be respected, so that the debatersmight show regard for courtesy,accuracy, effective reasoning, and thenecessity for careful preparation. TheAppendix contains a list of questions fordebate.

25. Are the following points wellconsidered?

The Inheritance Tax is Not aGood Social Reform MeasureA. Does not strike at the root of

the evil 1. Fortunes not a menace inthemselves A fortune of $500,000may be a greater social evil thanone of $500,000,000 2. Danger of wealth depends onits wrong accumulation and use 3. Inheritance tax will notprevent rebates,monopoly, discrimination,bribery, etc. 4. Laws aimed at unjustaccumulation and use of wealthfurnish the true remedy.B. It would be evaded 1. Low rates are evaded 2. Rate must be high to result in

distribution of great fortunes.

26. Class exercises: Mock Trial for(a) some serious political offense; (b) aburlesque offense.

24ChapterINFLUENCING BYPERSUASION

She hath prosperousartWhen she will play with reason anddiscourse,And well she can persuade.

—Shakespeare, Measure forMeasure.

Him we call an artist who shallplay on an assembly of men as amaster on the keys of a piano,—who seeing the people furious,shall soften and compose them,shall draw them, when he will, tolaughter and to tears. Bring him tohis audience, and, be they who theymay,—coarse or refined, pleasedor displeased, sulky or savage,with their opinions in the keepingof a confessor or with theiropinions in their bank safes,—hewill have them pleased andhumored as he chooses; and theyshall carry and execute what hebids them.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essay

on Eloquence.

More good and more ill have beeneffected by persuasion than by any otherform of speech. It is an attempt toinfluence by means of appeal to someparticular interest held important bythe hearer. Its motive may be high orlow, fair or unfair, honest or dishonest,calm or passionate, and hence its scopeis unparalleled in public speaking.

This "instilment of conviction," to useMatthew Arnold's expression, isnaturally a complex process in that itusually includes argumentation and oftenemploys suggestion, as the next chapterwill illustrate. In fact, there is littlepublic speaking worthy of the name that

is not in some part persuasive, for menrarely speak solely to alter men'sopinions—the ulterior purpose is almostalways action.

The nature of persuasion is not solelyintellectual, but is largely emotional. Ituses every principle of public speaking,and every "form of discourse," to use arhetorician's expression, but argumentsupplemented by special appeal is itspeculiar quality. This we may best seeby examining

The Methods of PersuasionHigh-minded speakers often seek to

move their hearers to action by anappeal to their highest motives, such aslove of liberty. Senator Hoar, inpleading for action on the Philippine

question, used this method:

What has been the practicalstatesmanship which comes fromyour ideals and yoursentimentalities? You have wastednearly six hundred millions oftreasure. You have sacrificednearly ten thousand American lives—the flower of our youth. Youhave devastated provinces. Youhave slain uncounted thousands ofthe people you desire to benefit.You have establishedreconcentration camps. Yourgenerals are coming home fromtheir harvest bringing sheaves withthem, in the shape of other

thousands of sick and wounded andinsane to drag out miserable lives,wrecked in body and mind. Youmake the American flag in the eyesof a numerous people the emblemof sacrilege in Christian churches,and of the burning of humandwellings, and of the horror of thewater torture. Your practicalstatesmanship which disdains totake George Washington andAbraham Lincoln or the soldiers ofthe Revolution or of the Civil Waras models, has looked in somecases to Spain for your example. Ibelieve—nay, I know—that ingeneral our officers and soldiersare humane. But in some cases they

have carried on your warfare witha mixture of American ingenuityand Castilian cruelty.Your practical statesmanship hassucceeded in converting a peoplewho three years ago were ready tokiss the hem of the garment of theAmerican and to welcome him as aliberator, who thronged after yourmen, when they landed on thoseislands, with benediction andgratitude, into sullen andirreconcilable enemies, possessedof a hatred which centuries cannoteradicate.Mr. President, this is the eternallaw of human nature. You maystruggle against it, you may try to

escape it, you may persuadeyourself that your intentions arebenevolent, that your yoke will beeasy and your burden will be light,but it will assert itself again.Government without the consent ofthe governed—authority whichheaven never gave—can only besupported by means which heavennever can sanction.The American people have got thisone question to answer. They mayanswer it now; they can take tenyears, or twenty years, or ageneration, or a century to think ofit. But will not down. They mustanswer it in the end: Can youlawfully buy with money, or get by

brute force of arms, the right tohold in subjugation an unwillingpeople, and to impose on them suchconstitution as you, and not they,think best for them?

Senator Hoar then went on to makeanother sort of appeal—the appeal tofact and experience:

We have answered this question agood many times in the past. Thefathers answered it in 1776, andfounded the Republic upon theiranswer, which has been the corner-stone. John Quincy Adams andJames Monroe answered it again inthe Monroe Doctrine, which JohnQuincy Adams declared was only

the doctrine of the consent of thegoverned. The Republican partyanswered it when it tookpossession of the force ofgovernment at the beginning of themost brilliant period in alllegislative history. AbrahamLincoln answered it when, on thatfatal journey to Washington in1861, he announced that as thedoctrine of his political creed, anddeclared, with prophetic vision,that he was ready to beassassinated for it if need be. Youanswered it again yourselves whenyou said that Cuba, who had nomore title than the people of thePhilippine Islands had to their

independence, of right ought to befree and independent.—George F. Hoar.

Appeal to the things that man holdsdear is another potent form ofpersuasion.

Joseph Story, in his great Salemspeech (1828) used this method mostdramatically:

I call upon you, fathers, by theshades of your ancestors—by thedear ashes which repose in thisprecious soil—by all you are, andall you hope to be—resist everyobject of disunion, resist everyencroachment upon your liberties,resist every attempt to fetter your

consciences, or smother yourpublic schools, or extinguish yoursystem of public instruction.I call upon you, mothers, by thatwhich never fails in woman, thelove of your offspring; teach them,as they climb your knees, or lean onyour bosoms, the blessings ofliberty. Swear them at the altar, aswith their baptismal vows, to betrue to their country, and never toforget or forsake her.I call upon you, young men, toremember whose sons you are;whose inheritance you possess.Life can never be too short, whichbrings nothing but disgrace andoppression. Death never comes too

soon, if necessary in defence of theliberties of your country.I call upon you, old men, for yourcounsels, and your prayers, andyour benedictions. May not yourgray hairs go down in sorrow to thegrave, with the recollection that youhave lived in vain. May not yourlast sun sink in the west upon anation of slaves.No; I read in the destiny of mycountry far better hopes, farbrighter visions. We, who are nowassembled here, must soon begathered to the congregation ofother days. The time of ourdeparture is at hand, to make wayfor our children upon the theatre of

life. May God speed them andtheirs. May he who, at the distanceof another century, shall stand hereto celebrate this day, still lookround upon a free, happy, andvirtuous people. May he havereason to exult as we do. May he,with all the enthusiasm of truth aswell as of poetry, exclaim, that hereis still his country.—Joseph Story.

The appeal to prejudice is effective—though not often, if ever, justifiable; yetso long as special pleading endures thissort of persuasion will be resorted to.Rudyard Kipling uses this method—ashave many others on both sides—indiscussing the great European war.

Mingled with the appeal to prejudice,Mr. Kipling uses the appeal to self-interest; though not the highest, it is apowerful motive in all our lives. Noticehow at the last the pleader sweeps on tothe highest ground he can take. This is anotable example of progressive appeal,beginning with a low motive and endingwith a high one in such a way as to carryall the force of prejudice yet gain all thevalue of patriotic fervor.

Through no fault nor wish of ourswe are at war with Germany, thepower which owes its existence tothree well-thought-out wars; thepower which, for the last twentyyears, has devoted itself to

organizing and preparing for thiswar; the power which is nowfighting to conquer the civilizedworld.For the last two generations theGermans in their books, lectures,speeches and schools have beencarefully taught that nothing lessthan this world-conquest was theobject of their preparations andtheir sacrifices. They haveprepared carefully and sacrificedgreatly.We must have men and men andmen, if we, with our allies, are tocheck the onrush of organizedbarbarism.Have no illusions. We are dealing

with a strong and magnificentlyequipped enemy, whose avowedaim is our complete destruction.The violation of Belgium, the attackon France and the defense againstRussia, are only steps by the way.The German's real objective, as shealways has told us, is England, andEngland's wealth, trade andworldwide possessions.If you assume, for an instant, thatthe attack will be successful,England will not be reduced, assome people say, to the rank of asecond rate power, but we shallcease to exist as a nation. We shallbecome an outlying province ofGermany, to be administered with

that severity German safety andinterest require.We are against such a fate. Weenter into a new life in which allthe facts of war that we had putbehind or forgotten for the lasthundred years, have returned to thefront and test us as they tested ourfathers. It will be a long and a hardroad, beset with difficulties anddiscouragements, but we tread ittogether and we will tread ittogether to the end.Our petty social divisions andbarriers have been swept away atthe outset of our mighty struggle.All the interests of our life of sixweeks ago are dead. We have but

one interest now, and that touchesthe naked heart of every man in thisisland and in the empire.If we are to win the right forourselves and for freedom to existon earth, every man must offerhimself for that service and thatsacrifice.

From these examples it will be seenthat the particular way in which thespeakers appealed to their hearersw a s by coming close home to theirinterests, and by themselves showingemotion—two very important principleswhich you must keep constantly in mind.

To accomplish the former requires adeep knowledge of human motive in

general and an understanding of theparticular audience addressed. What arethe motives that arouse men to action?Think of them earnestly, set them downon the tablets of your mind, study how toappeal to them worthily. Then, whatmotives would be likely to appealt o your hearers? What are their idealsand interests in life? A mistake in yourestimate may cost you your case. Toappeal to pride in appearance wouldmake one set of men merely laugh—totry to arouse sympathy for the Jews inPalestine would be wasted effort amongothers. Study your audience, feel yourway, and when you have once raised aspark, fan it into a flame by every honestresource you possess.

The larger your audience the moresure you are to find a universal basis ofappeal. A small audience of bachelorswill not grow excited over theimportance of furniture insurance; mostmen can be roused to the defense of thefreedom of the press.

Patent medicine advertisement usuallybegins by talking about your pains—theybegin on your interests. If they firstdiscussed the size and rating of theirestablishment, or the efficacy of theirremedy, you would never read the "ad."If they can make you think you havenervous troubles you will even plead fora remedy—they will not have to try tosell it.

The patent medicine men are pleading

—asking you to invest your money intheir commodity—yet they do not appearto be doing so. They get over on yourside of the fence, and arouse a desire fortheir nostrums by appealing to your owninterests.

Recently a book-salesman entered anattorney's office in New York andinquired: "Do you want to buy a book?"Had the lawyer wanted a book he wouldprobably have bought one withoutwaiting for a book-salesman to call. Thesolicitor made the same mistake as therepresentative who made his approachwith: "I want to sell you a sewingmachine." They both talked only in termsof their own interests.

The successful pleader must convert

his arguments into terms of his hearers'advantage. Mankind are still selfish, areinterested in what will serve them.Expunge from your address your ownpersonal concern and present yourappeal in terms of the general good, andto do this you need not be insincere, foryou had better not plead any cause thatis not for the hearers' good. Notice howSenator Thurston in his plea forintervention in Cuba and Mr. Bryan inhis "Cross of Gold" speech constitutedthemselves the apostles of humanity.

Exhortation is a highly impassionedform of appeal frequently used by thepulpit in efforts to arouse men to a senseof duty and induce them to decide theirpersonal courses, and by counsel in

seeking to influence a jury. The greatpreachers, like the great jury-lawyers,have always been masters of persuasion.

Notice the difference among thesefour exhortations, and analyze themotives appealed to:

Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire!Kill! Slay! Let not a traitor live!—Shakespeare, Julius Cæsar. Strike—till the last armed foeexpires,Strike—for your altars and yourfires,Strike—for the green graves ofyour sires, God—and your native land!—Fitz-Greene Halleck, Marco

Bozzaris.Believe, gentlemen, if it were notfor those children, he would notcome here to-day to seek suchremuneration; if it were not that, byyour verdict, you may prevent thoselittle innocent defrauded wretchesfrom becoming wandering beggars,as well as orphans on the face ofthis earth. Oh, I know I need not askthis verdict from your mercy; I neednot extort it from your compassion;I will receive it from your justice. Ido conjure you, not as fathers, butas husbands:—not as husbands, butas citizens:—not as citizens, but asmen:—not as men, butas Christians:—by all your

obligations, public, private, moral,and religious; by the hearthprofaned; by the home desolated;by the canons of the living Godfoully spurned;—save, oh: saveyour firesides from the contagion,your country from the crime, andperhaps thousands, yet unborn, fromthe shame, and sin, and sorrow ofthis example!

—Charles Phillips, Appeal to thejury in behalf of Guthrie.

So I appeal from the men in silkenhose who danced to music made byslaves and called it freedom, fromthe men in bell-crown hats who ledHester Prynne to her shame andcalled it religion, to that

Americanism which reaches forthits arms to smite wrong with reasonand truth, secure in the power ofboth. I appeal from the patriarchs ofNew England to the poets of NewEngland; from Endicott to Lowell;from Winthrop to Longfellow; fromNorton to Holmes; and I appeal inthe name and by the rights of thatcommon citizenship—of thatcommon origin, back of both thePuritan and the Cavalier, to whichall of us owe our being. Let thedead past, consecrated by the bloodof its martyrs, not by its savagehatreds, darkened alike by kingcraftand priestcraft—let the dead pastbury its dead. Let the present and

the future ring with the song of thesingers. Blessed be the lessons theyteach, the laws they make. Blessedbe the eye to see, the light to reveal.Blessed be tolerance, sitting everon the right hand of God to guidethe way with loving word, asblessed be all that brings us nearerthe goal of true religion, truerepublicanism, and true patriotism,distrust of watchwords and labels,shams and heroes, belief in ourcountry and ourselves. It was notCotton Mather, but John GreenleafWhittier, who cried: Dear God and Father of us all,Forgive our faith in cruel lies,

Forgive the blindness that denies. Cast down our idols—overturnOur Bloody altars—make us seeThyself in Thy humanity!

—Henry Watterson, Puritan andCavalier.

Goethe, on being reproached for nothaving written war songs against theFrench, replied, "In my poetry I havenever shammed. How could I havewritten songs of hate without hatred?"Neither is it possible to plead with fullefficiency for a cause for which you donot feel deeply. Feeling is contagious asbelief is contagious. The speaker whopleads with real feeling for his own

convictions will instill his feelings intohis listeners. Sincerity, force,enthusiasm, and above all, feeling—these are the qualities that movemultitudes and make appeals irresistible.They are of far greater importance thantechnical principles of delivery, grace ofgesture, or polished enunciation—important as all these elements mustdoubtless be considered. Base yourappeal on reason, but do not end in thebasement—let the building rise, full ofdeep emotion and noble persuasion.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. (a) What elements of appeal do you

find in the following? (b) Is it too florid?

(c) Is this style equally powerful today?(d) Are the sentences too long andinvolved for clearness and force?

Oh, gentlemen, am I this day onlythe counsel of my client? No, no; Iam the advocate of humanity—ofyourselves—your homes—yourwives—your families—your littlechildren. I am glad that this caseexhibits such atrocity; unmarked asit is by any mitigatory feature, itmay stop the frightful advance ofthis calamity; it will be met now,and marked with vengeance. If it benot, farewell to the virtues of yourcountry; farewell to all confidencebetween man and man; farewell to

that unsuspicious and reciprocaltenderness, without which marriageis but a consecrated curse. If oathsare to be violated, lawsdisregarded, friendship betrayed,humanity trampled, national andindividual honor stained, and if ajury of fathers and of husbands willgive such miscreancy a passport totheir homes, and wives, anddaughters,—farewell to all that yetremains of Ireland! But I will notcast such a doubt upon the characterof my country. Against the sneer ofthe foe, and the skepticism of theforeigner, I will still point to thedomestic virtues, that no perfidycould barter, and no bribery can

purchase, that with a Roman usage,at once embellish and consecratehouseholds, giving to the society ofthe hearth all the purity of the altar;that lingering alike in the palaceand the cottage, are still to be foundscattered over this land—the relicof what she was—the sourceperhaps of what she may be—thelone, the stately, and magnificentmemorials, that rearing theirmajesty amid surrounding ruins,serve at once as the landmarks ofthe departed glory, and the modelsby which the future may be erected.Preserve those virtues with a vestalfidelity; mark this day, by yourverdict, your horror of their

profanation; and believe me, whenthe hand which records that verdictshall be dust, and the tongue thatasks it, traceless in the grave, manya happy home will bless itsconsequences, and many a motherteach her little child to hate theimpious treason of adultery.

—Charles Phillips.

2. Analyze and criticise the forms ofappeal used in the selections from Hoar,Story, and Kipling.

3. What is the type of persuasion usedby Senator Thurston (page 50)?

4. Cite two examples each, fromselections in this volume, in whichspeakers sought to be persuasive by

securing the hearers' (a) sympathy forthemselves; (b) sympathy with theirsubjects; (c) self-pity.

5. Make a short address usingpersuasion.

6. What other methods of persuasionthan those here mentioned can you name?

7. Is it easier to persuade men tochange their course of conduct than topersuade them to continue in a givencourse? Give examples to support yourbelief.

8. In how far are we justified inmaking an appeal to self-interest inorder to lead men to adopt a givencourse?

9. Does the merit of the course haveany bearing on the merit of the methods

used?10. Illustrate an unworthy method of

using persuasion.11. Deliver a short speech on the

value of skill in persuasion.12. Does effective persuasion always

produce conviction?13. Does conviction always result in

action?14. Is it fair for counsel to appeal to

the emotions of a jury in a murder trial?15. Ought the judge use persuasion in

making his charge?16. Say how self-consciousness may

hinder the power of persuasion in aspeaker.

17. Is emotion without words everpersuasive? If so, illustrate.

18. Might gestures without words bepersuasive? If so, illustrate.

19. Has posture in a speaker anythingto do with persuasion? Discuss.

20. Has voice? Discuss.21. Has manner? Discuss.22. What effect does personal

magnetism have in producingconviction?

23. Discuss the relation of persuasionto (a) description; (b) narration; (c)exposition; (d) pure reason.

24. What is the effect of over-persuasion?

25. Make a short speech on the effectof the constant use of persuasion on thesincerity of the speaker himself.

26. Show by example how a general

statement is not as persuasive as aconcrete example illustrating the pointbeing discussed.

27. Show by example how brevity isof value in persuasion.

28. Discuss the importance ofavoiding an antagonistic attitude inpersuasion.

29. What is the most persuasivepassage you have found in the selectionsof this volume. On what do you baseyour decision?

30. Cite a persuasive passage fromsome other source. Read or recite italoud.

31. Make a list of the emotional basesof appeal, grading them from low tohigh, according to your estimate.

32. Would circumstances make anydifference in such grading? If so, giveexamples.

33. Deliver a short, passionate appealto a jury, pleading for justice to a poorwidow.

34. Deliver a short appeal to men togive up some evil way.

35. Criticise the structure of thesentence beginning with the last line ofpage 296.

25ChapterINFLUENCING THECROWD

Success in business, in the lastanalysis, turns upon touching theimagination of crowds. The reasonthat preachers in this presentgeneration are less successful ingetting people to want goodnessthan business men are in getting

them to want motorcars, hats, andpianolas, is that business men as aclass are more close and desperatestudents of human nature, and haveboned down harder to the art oftouching the imaginations of thecrowds.—Gerald StanleyLee, Crowds.

In the early part of July, 1914, acollection of Frenchmen in Paris, orGermans in Berlin, was not a crowd in apsychological sense. Each individualhad his own special interests and needs,and there was no powerful common ideato unify them. A group then representedonly a collection of individuals. A monthlater, any collection of Frenchmen or

Germans formed a crowd: Patriotism,hate, a common fear, a pervasive grief,had unified the individuals.

The psychology of the crowd is fardifferent from the psychology of thepersonal members that compose it. Thecrowd is a distinct entity. Individualsrestrain and subdue many of theirimpulses at the dictates of reason. Thecrowd never reasons. It only feels. Aspersons there is a sense of responsibilityattached to our actions which checksmany of our incitements, but the sense ofresponsibility is lost in the crowdbecause of its numbers. The crowd isexceedingly suggestible and will actupon the wildest and most extremeideas. The crowd-mind is primitive and

will cheer plans and perform actionswhich its members would utterlyrepudiate.

A mob is only a highly-wroughtcrowd. Ruskin's description is fitting:"You can talk a mob into anything; itsfeelings may be—usually are—on thewhole, generous and right, but it has nofoundation for them, no hold of them.You may tease or tickle it into anythingat your pleasure. It thinks by infection,for the most part, catching an opinionlike a cold, and there is nothing so littlethat it will not roar itself wild about,when the fit is on, nothing so great but itwill forget in an hour when the fit ispast."[29]

History will show us how the crowd-

mind works. The medieval mind was notgiven to reasoning; the medieval manattached great weight to the utterance ofauthority; his religion touched chiefly theemotions. These conditions provided arich soil for the propagation of thecrowd-mind when, in the eleventhcentury, flagellation, a voluntary self-scourging, was preached by the monks.Substituting flagellation for recitingpenitential psalms was advocated by thereformers. A scale was drawn up,making one thousand strokes equivalentto ten psalms, or fifteen thousand to theentire psalter. This craze spread byleaps—and crowds. Flagellantfraternities sprang up. Priests carryingbanners led through the streets great

processions reciting prayers andwhipping their bloody bodies withleathern thongs fitted with four ironpoints. Pope Clement denounced thispractise and several of the leaders ofthese processions had to be burned at thestake before the frenzy could beuprooted.

All western and central Europe wasturned into a crowd by the preaching ofthe crusaders, and millions of thefollowers of the Prince of Peace rushedto the Holy Land to kill the heathen.Even the children started on a crusadeagainst the Saracens. The mob-spiritwas so strong that home affections andpersuasion could not prevail against itand thousands of mere babes died in

their attempts to reach and redeem theSacred Sepulchre.

In the early part of the eighteenthcentury the South Sea Company wasformed in England. Britain became aspeculative crowd. Stock in the SouthSea Company rose from 128-1/2 pointsin January to 550 in May, and scored1,000 in July. Five million shares weresold at this premium. Speculation ranriot. Hundreds of companies wereorganized. One was formed "for a wheelof perpetual motion." Another nevertroubled to give any reason at all fortaking the cash of its subscribers—itmerely announced that it was organized"for a design which will hereafter bepromulgated." Owners began to sell, the

mob caught the suggestion, a panicensued, the South Sea Company stockfell 800 points in a few days, and morethan a billion dollars evaporated in thisera of frenzied speculation.

The burning of the witches at Salem,the Klondike gold craze, and the forty-eight people who were killed by mobs inthe United States in 1913, are examplesfamiliar to us in America.

The Crowd Must Have a LeaderThe leader of the crowd or mob is its

determining factor. He becomes self-hynoptized with the idea that unifies itsmembers, his enthusiasm is contagious—and so is theirs. The crowd acts as hesuggests. The great mass of people donot have any very sharply-drawn

conclusions on any subject outside oftheir own little spheres, but when theybecome a crowd they are perfectlywilling to accept ready-made, hand-me-down opinions. They will follow aleader at all costs—in labor troublesthey often follow a leader in preferenceto obeying their government, in war theywill throw self-preservation to thebushes and follow a leader in the face ofguns that fire fourteen times a second.The mob becomes shorn of will-powerand blindly obedient to its dictator. TheRussian Government, recognizing themenace of the crowd-mind to itsautocracy, formerly prohibited publicgatherings. History is full of similarinstances.

How the Crowd is CreatedToday the crowd is as real a factor in

our socialized life as are magnates andmonopolies. It is too complex a problemmerely to damn or praise it—it must bereckoned with, and mastered. Thepresent problem is how to get the mostand the best out of the crowd-spirit, andthe public speaker finds this to bepeculiarly his own question. Hisinfluence is multiplied if he can onlytransmute his audience into a crowd. Hisaffirmations must be their conclusions.

This can be accomplished by unifyingthe minds and needs of the audience andarousing their emotions. Their feelings,not their reason, must be played upon—it is "up to" him to do this nobly.

Argument has its place on the platform,but even its potencies must subserve thespeaker's plan of attack to winpossession of his audience.

Reread the chapter on "Feeling andEnthusiasm." It is impossible to make anaudience a crowd without appealing totheir emotions. Can you imagine theaverage group becoming a crowd whilehearing a lecture on Dry Fly Fishing, oron Egyptian Art? On the other hand, itwould not have required world-famouseloquence to have turned any audience inUlster, in 1914, into a crowd bydiscussing the Home Rule Act. Thecrowd-spirit depends largely on thesubject used to fuse their individualitiesinto one glowing whole.

Note how Antony played upon thefeelings of his hearers in the famousfuneral oration given by Shakespeare in"Julius Cæsar." From murmuring unitsthe men became a unit—a mob.

ANTONY'S ORATION OVERCÆSAR'S BODY

Friends, Romans, countrymen! Lendme your ears;I come to bury Cæsar, not to praisehim.The evil that men do lives afterthem;The good is oft interred with theirbones:So let it be with Cæsar! The NobleBrutus

Hath told you Cæsar wasambitious.If it were so, it was a grievousfault,And grievously hath Cæsaranswered it.Here, under leave of Brutus, andthe rest—For Brutus is an honorable man, So are they all, all honorable men—Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.He was my friend, faithful and justto me:But Brutus says he was ambitious;And Brutus is an honorable man.He hath brought many captives

home to Rome,Whose ransoms did the generalcoffers fill:Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?When that the poor have cried,Cæsar hath wept;Ambition should be made of sternerstuff:Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious;And Brutus is an honorable man.You all did see, that, on theLupercal,I thrice presented him a kinglycrown,Which he did thrice refuse. Wasthis ambition?Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;And sure, he is an honorable man.

I speak not to disprove what Brutusspoke,But here I am to speak what I doknow.You all did love him once, notwithout cause;What cause withholds you then tomourn for him?Oh, judgment, thou art fled tobrutish beasts,And men have lost their reason!—Bear with me;My heart is in the coffin there withCæsar,And I must pause till it come backto me. [Weeps. 1 Plebeian. Methinks there is much

reason in his sayings. 2 Ple. If thou consider rightly of thematter,Cæsar has had great wrong. 3 Ple. Has he, masters?I fear there will a worse come inhis place. 4 Ple. Mark'd ye his words? Hewould not take the crown;Therefore, 'tis certain, he was notambitious. 1 Ple. If it be found so, some willdear abide it.

2 Ple. Poor soul, his eyes are redas fire with weeping. 3 Ple. There's not a nobler man inRome than Antony. 4 Ple. Now mark him, he beginsagain to speak. Ant. But yesterday, the word ofCæsar mightHave stood against the world: nowlies he there,And none so poor to do himreverence. Oh, masters! if I were dispos'd tostir

Your hearts and minds to mutinyand rage,I should do Brutus wrong, andCassius wrong,Who, you all know, are honorablemen.I will not do them wrong; I ratherchooseTo wrong the dead, to wrongmyself, and you,Than I will wrong such honorablemen.But here's a parchment, with theseal of Cæsar;I found it in his closet; 'tis his will:Let but the commons hear thistestament—Which, pardon me, I do not mean to

read—And they would go and kiss deadCæsar's wounds,And dip their napkins in his sacredblood;Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,And, dying, mention it within theirwills,Bequeathing it as a rich legacyUnto their issue. 4 Ple. We'll hear the will: Read it,Mark Antony. All. The will! the will! we willhear Cæsar's will. Ant. Have patience, gentle friends:

I must not read it;It is not meet you know how Cæsarlov'd you.You are not wood, you are notstones, but men;And, being men, hearing the will ofCæsar,It will inflame you, it will makeyou mad:'Tis good you know not that you arehis heirs;For if you should, oh, what wouldcome of it! 4 Ple. Read the will; we'll hear it,Antony!You shall read us the will! Cæsar'swill!

Ant. Will you be patient? Will youstay awhile?I have o'ershot myself, to tell you ofit.I fear I wrong the honorable menWhose daggers have stab'd Cæsar;I do fear it. 4 Ple. They were traitors:Honorable men! All. The will! the testament! 2 Ple. They were villains,murtherers! The will! Read thewill!

Ant. You will compel me then toread the will?Then, make a ring about the corpseof Cæsar,And let me shew you him that madethe will.Shall I descend? And will you giveme leave? All. Come down. 2 Ple. Descend. [He comes downfrom the Rostrum. 3 Ple. You shall have leave. 4 Ple. A ring; stand round.

1 Ple. Stand from the hearse, standfrom the body. 2 Ple. Room for Antony!—mostnoble Antony! Ant. Nay, press not so upon me;stand far off. All. Stand back! room! bear back! Ant. If you have tears, prepare toshed them now;You all do know this mantle: IrememberThe first time ever Cæsar put it on;'Twas on a summer's evening, in histent,

That day he overcame the Nervii.Look, in this place, ran Cassius'dagger through:See, what a rent the envious Cascamade:Through this, the well-belovedBrutus stab'd;And as he pluck'd his cursed steelaway,Mark how the blood of Cæsarfollow'd it!—As rushing out of doors, to beresolv'dIf Brutus so unkindly knock'd, orno;For Brutus, as you know, wasCæsar's angel:Judge, O you Gods, how Cæsar

lov'd him!This was the most unkindest cut ofall!For when the noble Cæsar saw himstab,Ingratitude, more strong thantraitors' arms,Quite vanquish'd him: then burst hismighty heart;And in his mantle muffling up hisface,Even at the base of Pompey'sstatue,Which all the while ran blood,great Cæsar fell.Oh what a fall was there, mycountrymen!Then I and you, and all of us, fell

down,Whilst bloody treason flourish'dover us.Oh! now you weep; and I perceiveyou feelThe dint of pity; these are graciousdrops.Kind souls! what, weep you, whenyou but beholdOur Cæsar's vesture wounded?Look you here!Here is himself, mar'd, as you see,by traitors. 1 Ple. Oh, piteous spectacle! 2 Ple. Oh, noble Cæsar!

3 Ple. Oh, woful day! 4 Ple. Oh, traitors, villains! 1 Ple. Oh, most bloody sight! 2 Ple. We will be reveng'd! All. Revenge; about—seek—burn—fire—kill—day!—Let notatraitor live! Ant. Stay, countrymen. 1 Ple. Peace there! Hear the nobleAntony. 2 Ple. We'll hear him, we'll follow

him, we'll die with him. Ant. Good friends, sweet friends,let me not stir you upTo such a sudden flood of mutiny:They that have done this deed arehonorable:What private griefs they have, alas!I know not,That made them do it; they arewise, and honorable,And will, no doubt, with reasonsanswer you.I come not, friends, to steal awayyour hearts;I am no orator, as Brutus is;But as you know me all, a plainblunt man,

That love my friend, and that theyknow full wellThat gave me public leave to speakof him:For I have neither wit, nor words,nor worth,Action, nor utterance, nor thepower of speech,To stir men's blood. I only speakright on:I tell you that which you yourselvesdo know;Show your sweet Cæsar's wounds,poor, poor, dumb mouths,And bid them speak for me. Butwere I Brutus,And Brutus Antony, there were anAntony

Would ruffle up your spirits, andput a tongueIn every wound of Cæsar, thatshould moveThe stones of Rome to rise andmutiny. All. We'll mutiny! 1 Ple. We'll burn the house ofBrutus. 3 Ple. Away, then! Come, seek theconspirators. Ant. Yet hear me, countrymen; yethear me speak.

All. Peace, ho! Hear Antony, mostnoble Antony. Ant. Why, friends, you go to do youknow not what.Wherein hath Cæsar thus deserv'dyour loves?Alas! you know not!—I must tellyou then.You have forgot the will I told youof. Ple. Most true;—the will!—let'sstay, and hear the will. Ant. Here is the will, and underCæsar's seal.To every Roman citizen he gives,

To every several man, seventy-fivedrachmas. 2 Ple. Most noble Cæsar!—we'llrevenge his death. 3 Ple. O royal Cæsar! Ant. Hear mewith patience. All. Peace, ho! Ant. Moreover, he hath left you allhis walks,His private arbours, and new-planted orchards,On this side Tiber; he hath left themyou,And to your heirs forever, common

pleasures,To walk abroad, and recreateyourselves.Here was a Cæsar! When comessuch another? 1 Ple. Never, never!—Come,away, away!We'll burn his body in the holyplace,And with the brands fire thetraitors' houses.Take up the body. 2 Ple. Go, fetch fire. 3 Ple. Pluck down benches.

4 Ple. Pluck down forms, windows,anything.[Exeunt Citizens, with the body. Ant. Now let it work. Mischief,thou art afoot,Take thou what course thou wilt!

To unify single, auditors into a crowd,express their common needs,aspirations, dangers, and emotions,deliver your message so that the interestsof one shall appear to be the interests ofall. The conviction of one man isintensified in proportion as he findsothers sharing his belief—and feeling.Antony does not stop with telling theRoman populace that Cæsar fell—he

makes the tragedy universal:

Then I, and you, and all of us felldown,Whilst bloody treason flourishedover us.

Applause, generally a sign of feeling,helps to unify an audience. The nature ofthe crowd is illustrated by the contagionof applause. Recently a throng in a NewYork moving-picture and vaudevillehouse had been applauding severalsongs, and when an advertisement fortailored skirts was thrown on the screensome one started the applause, and thecrowd, like sheep, blindly imitated—until someone saw the joke and laughed;then the crowd again followed a leader

and laughed at and applauded its ownstupidity.

Actors sometimes start applause fortheir lines by snapping their fingers.Some one in the first few rows willmistake it for faint applause, and thewhole theatre will chime in.

An observant auditor will beinterested in noticing the various devicesa monologist will use to get the firstround of laughter and applause. Heworks so hard because he knows anaudience of units is an audience ofindifferent critics, but once get them tolaughing together and each single laughersweeps a number of others with him,until the whole theatre is aroar and theentertainer has scored. These are

meretricious schemes, to be sure, and donot savor in the least of inspiration, butcrowds have not changed in their naturein a thousand years and the one lawholds for the greatest preacher and thepettiest stump-speaker—you must fuseyour audience or they will not warm toyour message. The devices of the greatorator may not be so obvious as those ofthe vaudeville monologist, but theprinciple is the same: he tries to strikesome universal note that will have allhis hearers feeling alike at the sametime.

The evangelist knows this when hehas the soloist sing some touching songjust before the address. Or he will havethe entire congregation sing, and that is

the psychology of "Now everybodysing!" for he knows that they who willnot join in the song are as yet outside thecrowd. Many a time has the popularevangelist stopped in the middle of histalk, when he felt that his hearers wereunits instead of a molten mass (and asensitive speaker can feel that conditionmost depressingly) and suddenlydemanded that everyone arise and sing,or repeat aloud a familiar passage, orread in unison; or perhaps he has subtlyleft the thread of his discourse to tell astory that, from long experience, heknew would not fail to bring his hearersto a common feeling.

These things are important resourcesfor the speaker, and happy is he who

uses them worthily and not as adespicable charlatan. The differencebetween a demagogue and a leader is notso much a matter of method as ofprinciple. Even the most dignifiedspeaker must recognize the eternal lawsof human nature. You are by no meansurged to become a trickster on theplatform—far from it!—but don't killyour speech with dignity. To be icilycorrect is as silly as to rant. Do neither,but appeal to those world-old elementsin your audience that have beenrecognized by all great speakers fromDemosthenes to Sam Small, and see to itthat you never debase your powers byarousing your hearers unworthily.

It is as hard to kindle enthusiasm in a

scattered audience as to build a fire withscattered sticks. An audience to beconverted into a crowd must be made toappear as a crowd. This cannot be donewhen they are widely scattered over alarge seating space or when many emptybenches separate the speaker from hishearers. Have your audience seatedcompactly. How many a preacher hasbemoaned the enormous edifice overwhich what would normally be a largecongregation has scattered in chilled andchilling solitude Sunday after Sunday!Bishop Brooks himself could not haveinspired a congregation of one thousandsouls seated in the vastness of St. Peter'sat Rome. In that colossal sanctuary it isonly on great occasions which bring out

the multitudes that the service is beforethe high altar—at other times the smallerside-chapels are used.

Universal ideas surcharged withfeeling help to create the crowd-atmosphere. Examples: liberty,character, righteousness, courage,fraternity, altruism, country, and nationalheroes. George Cohan was makingpsychology practical and profitablewhen he introduced the flag and flag-songs into his musical comedies.Cromwell's regiments prayed before thebattle and went into the fight singinghymns. The French corps, singing theMarseillaise in 1914, charged theGermans as one man. Such unifyingdevices arouse the feelings, make

soldiers fanatical mobs—and, alas,more efficient murderers.

26ChapterRIDING THEWINGED HORSE

To think, and to feel, constitute thetwo grand divisions of men ofgenius—the men of reasoning andthe men of imagination.

—Isaac Disraeli, LiteraryCharacter of Men of Genius.

And as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, thepoet's penTurns them to shapes and gives toairy nothingA local habitation and a name.

—Shakespeare, Midsummer-Night's Dream.

It is common, among those who dealchiefly with life's practicalities, to thinkof imagination as having little value incomparison with direct thinking. Theysmile with tolerance when Emerson saysthat "Science does not know its debt tothe imagination," for these are the wordsof a speculative essayist, a philosopher,a poet. But when Napoleon—theindomitable welder of empires—

declares that "The human race isgoverned by its imagination," theauthoritative word commands theirrespect.

Be it remembered, the faculty offorming mental images is as efficient acog as may be found in the whole mind-machine. True, it must fit into that othervital cog, pure thought, but when it doesso it may be questioned which is themore productive of important results forthe happiness and well-being of man.This should become more apparent aswe go on.

I. WHAT IS IMAGINATION?

Let us not seek for a definition, for

a score of varying ones may be found,but let us grasp this fact: Byimagination we mean either thefaculty or the process of formingmental images.

The subject-matter of imagination maybe really existent in nature, or not at allreal, or a combination of both; it may bephysical or spiritual, or both—themental image is at once the most lawlessand the most law-abiding child that hasever been born of the mind.

First of all, as its name suggests, theprocess of imagination—for we arethinking of it now as a process ratherthan as a faculty—is memory at work.Therefore we must consider it primarilyas

1. Reproductive ImaginationWe see or hear or feel or taste or

smell something and the sensation passesaway. Yet we are conscious of a greateror lesser ability to reproduce suchfeelings at will. Two considerations, ingeneral, will govern the vividness of theimage thus evoked—the strength of theoriginal impression, and thereproductive power of one mind ascompared with another. Yet everynormal person will be able to evokeimages with some degree of clearness.

The fact that not all minds possess thisimaging faculty in anything like equalmeasure will have an important bearingon the public speaker's study of thisquestion. No man who does not feel at

least some poetic impulses is likely toaspire seriously to be a poet, yet manywhose imaging faculties are so dormantas to seem actually dead do aspire to bepublic speakers. To all such we saymost earnestly: Awaken your image-making gift, for even in the most coldlylogical discourse it is sure to prove ofgreat service. It is important that youfind out at once just how full and howtrustworthy is your imagination, for it iscapable of cultivation—as well as ofabuse.

Francis Galton[30] says: "The Frenchappear to possess the visualizing facultyin a high degree. The peculiar abilitythey show in pre-arranging ceremonialsand fêtes of all kinds and their

undoubted genius for tactics and strategyshow that they are able to foresee effectswith unusual clearness. Their ingenuityin all technical contrivances is anadditional testimony in the samedirection, and so is their singularclearness of expression. Theirp hr a s e figurez-vous, or picture toyourself, seems to express theirdominant mode of perception. Ourequivalent, of 'image,' is ambiguous."

But individuals differ in this respectjust as markedly as, for instance, theDutch do from the French. And this istrue not only of those who are classifiedby their friends as being respectivelyimaginative or unimaginative, but ofthose whose gifts or habits are not well

known.Let us take for experiment six of the

best-known types of imaging and see inpractise how they arise in our ownminds.

By all odds the most common type is,( a ) the visual image. Children whomore readily recall things seen thanthings heard are called by psychologists"eye-minded," and most of us are bent inthis direction. Close your eyes now andre-call—the word thus hyphenated ismore suggestive—the scene around thismorning's breakfast table. Possibly therewas nothing striking in the situation andthe image is therefore not striking. Thenimage any notable table scene in yourexperience—how vividly it stands forth,

because at the time you felt theimpression strongly. Just then you maynot have been conscious of how stronglythe scene was laying hold upon you, foroften we are so intent upon what we seethat we give no particular thought to thefact that it is impressing us. It maysurprise you to learn how accurately youare able to image a scene when a longtime has elapsed between the consciousfocussing of your attention on the imageand the time when you saw the original.

(b) The auditory image is probablythe next most vivid of our recalledexperiences. Here association is potentto suggest similarities. Close out all theworld beside and listen to the peculiarwood-against-wood sound of the sharp

thunder among rocky mountains—thecrash of ball against ten-pins maysuggest it. Or image (the word isimperfect, for it seems to suggest onlythe eye) the sound of tearing ropes whensome precious weight hangs in danger.Or recall the bay of a hound almost uponyou in pursuit—choose your own sound,and see how pleasantly or terribly real itbecomes when imaged in your brain.

( c ) The motor image is a closecompetitor with the auditory for secondplace. Have you ever awakened in thenight, every muscle taut and striving, tofeel your self straining against theopposing football line that held like astone-wall—or as firmly as theheadboard of your bed? Or voluntarily

recall the movement of the boat whenyou cried inwardly, "It's all up with me!"The perilous lurch of a train, the suddensinking of an elevator, or the unexpectedtoppling of a rocking-chair may serve asfurther experiments.

(d) The gustatory image is commonenough, as the idea of eating lemons willtestify. Sometimes the pleasurablerecollection of a delightful dinner willcause the mouth to water yearsafterward, or the "image" of particularlyatrocious medicine will wrinkle the noselong after it made one day in boyhoodwretched.

(e) The olfactory image is even moredelicate. Some there are who areaffected to illness by the memory of

certain odors, while others experiencethe most delectable sensations by therise of pleasing olfactory images.

( f ) The tactile image, to name noothers, is well nigh as potent. Do youshudder at the thought of velvet rubbedby short-nailed finger tips? Or were youever "burned" by touching an ice-coldstove? Or, happier memory, can you stillfeel the touch of a well-loved absenthand?

Be it remembered that few of theseimages are present in our minds exceptin combination—the sight and sound ofthe crashing avalanche are one; so arethe flash and report of the huntman's gunthat came so near "doing for us."

Thus, imaging—especially conscious

reproductive imagination—will becomea valuable part of our mental processesin proportion as we direct and control it.

2. Productive ImaginationAll of the foregoing examples, and

doubtless also many of the experimentsyou yourself may originate, are merelyreproductive. Pleasurable or horrific asthese may be, they are far less importantthan the images evoked by theproductive imagination—though thatdoes not infer a separate faculty.

Recall, again for experiment, somescene whose beginning you once sawenacted on a street corner but passed bybefore the dénouement was ready to bedisclosed. Recall it all—that far theimage is reproductive. But what

followed? Let your fantasy roam atpleasure—the succeeding scenes areproductive, for you have more or lessconsciously invented the unreal on thebasis of the real.

And just here the fictionist, the poet,and the public speaker will see the valueof productive imagery. True, the feet ofthe idol you build are on the ground, butits head pierces the clouds, it is a son ofboth earth and heaven.

One fact it is important to note here:Imagery is a valuable mental asset inproportion as it is controlled by thehigher intellectual power of pure reason.The untutored child of nature thinkslargely in images and therefore attachesto them undue importance. He readily

confuses the real with the unreal—to himthey are of like value. But the man oftraining readily distinguishes the onefrom the other and evaluates each withsome, if not with perfect, justice.

So we see that unrestrained imagingmay produce a rudderless steamer,while the trained faculty is the gracefulsloop, skimming the seas at her skipper'swill, her course steadied by the helm ofreason and her lightsome wings catchingevery air of heaven.

The game of chess, the war-lord'stactical plan, the evolution of ageometrical theorem, the devising of agreat business campaign, the eliminationof waste in a factory, the dénouement ofa powerful drama, the overcoming of an

economic obstacle, the scheme for asublime poem, and the convincing siegeof an audience may—nay, indeed must—each be conceived in an image andwrought to reality according to the plansand specifications laid upon the trestleboard by some modern imaginativeHiram. The farmer who would becontent with the seed he possesseswould have no harvest. Do not restsatisfied with the ability to recallimages, but cultivate your creativeimagination by building "what might be"upon the foundation of "what is."

II. THE USES OF IMAGING IN

PUBLIC SPEAKING

By this time you will have alreadymade some general application of theseideas to the art of the platform, but toseveral specific uses we must now refer.

1. Imaging in Speech-Preparation( a) Set the image of your audience

before you while youprepare. Disappointment may lurk here,and you cannot be forearmed for everyemergency, but in the main you mustmeet your audience before you actuallydo—image its probable mood andattitude toward the occasion, the theme,and the speaker.

(b) Conceive your speech as a wholewhile you are preparing its parts , elsecan you not see—image—how its partsshall be fitly framed together.

(c) Image the language you will use,so far as written or extemporaneousspeech may dictate. The habit of imagingwill give you choice of varied figures ofspeech, for remember that an addresswithout fresh comparisons is like agarden without blooms. Do not becontent with the first hackneyed figurethat comes flowing to your pen-point, butdream on until the striking, the unusual,yet the vividly real comparison pointsyour thought like steel does the arrow-tip.

Note the freshness and effectivenessof the following description from theopening of O. Henry's story, "TheHarbinger."

Long before the springtide is felt inthe dull bosom of the yokel does thecity man know that the grass-greengoddess is upon her throne. He sitsat his breakfast eggs and toast,begirt by stone walls, opens hismorning paper and sees journalismleave vernalism at the post.For whereas Spring's couriers wereonce the evidence of our finersenses, now the Associated Pressdoes the trick.The warble of the first robin inHackensack, the stirring of themaple sap in Bennington, thebudding of the pussy willows alongthe main street in Syracuse, the firstchirp of the blue bird, the swan

song of the blue point, the annualtornado in St. Louis, the plaint ofthe peach pessimist from Pompton,N.J., the regular visit of the tamewild goose with a broken leg to thepond near Bilgewater Junction, thebase attempt of the Drug Trust toboost the price of quinine foiled inthe House by Congressman Jinks,the first tall poplar struck bylightning and the usual stunnedpicknickers who had taken refuge,the first crack of the ice jamb in theAllegheny River, the finding of aviolet in its mossy bed by thecorrespondent at Round Corners—these are the advanced signs of theburgeoning season that are wired

into the wise city, while the farmersees nothing but winter upon hisdreary fields.But these be mere externals. Thetrue harbinger is the heart. WhenStrephon seeks his Chloe and Mikehis Maggie, then only is Springarrived and the newspaper reportof the five foot rattler killed inSquire Pettregrew's pastureconfirmed.

A hackneyed writer would probablyhave said that the newspaper told thecity man about spring before the farmercould see any evidence of it, but that thereal harbinger of spring was love andthat "In the Spring a young man's fancy

lightly turns to thoughts of love."2. Imaging in Speech-DeliveryWhen once the passion of speech is on

you and you are "warmed up"—perhapsby striking till the iron is hot so that youmay not fail to strike when it is hot—your mood will be one of vision.

Then (a) Re-image past emotion—ofwhich more elsewhere. The actor re-calls the old feelings every time herenders his telling lines.

(b) Reconstruct in image the scenesyou are to describe.

( c ) Image the objects in naturewhose tone you are delineating, so thatbearing and voice and movement(gesture) will picture forth the wholeconvincingly. Instead of merely stating

the fact that whiskey ruins homes, thetemperance speaker paints a drunkardcoming home to abuse his wife andstrike his children. It is much moreeffective than telling the truth in abstractterms. To depict the cruelness of war, donot assert the fact abstractly—"War iscruel." Show the soldier, an arm sweptaway by a bursting shell, lying on thebattlefield pleading for water; show thechildren with tear-stained faces pressedagainst the window pane praying fortheir dead father to return. Avoid generaland prosaic terms. Paint pictures.Evolve images for the imagination ofyour audience to construct into picturesof their own.

III. HOW TO ACQUIRE THEIMAGING HABIT

You remember the American

statesman who asserted that "the way toresume is to resume"? The application isobvious. Beginning with the first simpleanalyses of this chapter, test your ownqualities of image-making. One by onepractise the several kinds of images;then add—even invent—others incombination, for many images come tous in complex form, like the combinednoise and shoving and hot odor of acheering crowd.

After practising on reproductiveimaging, turn to the productive,beginning with the reproductive and

adding productive features for the sakeof cultivating invention.

Frequently, allow your originatinggifts full swing by weaving completeimaginary fabrics—sights, sounds,scenes; all the fine world of fantasy liesopen to the journeyings of your wingedsteed.

In like manner train yourself in the useof figurative language. Learn first todistinguish and then to use its variedfo r ms . When used with restraint,nothing can be more effective than thetrope; but once let extravagance creep inby the window, and power will flee bythe door.

All in all, master your images—let notthem master you.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Give original examples of each

kind of reproductive imagination.2. Build two of these into imaginary

incidents for platform use, using yourproductive, or creative, imagination.

3. Define (a) phantasy; (b) vision; (c)fantastic; (d) phantasmagoria; (e)transmogrify; (f) recollection.

4. What is a "figure of speech"?5. Define and give two examples of

each of the following figures ofspeech[31]. At least one of the examplesunder each type would better beoriginal. (a) simile; (b) metaphor; (c)metonymy; (d) synecdoche; (e)

apostrophe; (f) vision; (g)personification; (h) hyperbole; (i) irony.

6. (a) What is an allegory? (b) Nameone example. (c) How could a shortallegory be used as part of a publicaddress?

7. Write a short fable[32] for use in aspeech. Follow either the ancient form(Æsop) or the modern (George Ade,Josephine Dodge Daskam).

8. What do you understand by "thehistorical present?" Illustrate how it maybe used (ONLY occasionally) in a publicaddress.

9. Recall some disturbance on thestreet, (a) Describe it as you would onthe platform; (b) imagine what precededthe disturbance; (c) imagine what

followed it; (d) connect the whole in aterse, dramatic narration for the platformand deliver it with careful attention toall that you have learned of the publicspeaker's art.

10. Do the same with other incidentsyou have seen or heard of, or read of inthe newspapers.

NOTE: It is hoped that this exercisewill be varied and expanded until thepupil has gained considerable mastery ofimaginative narration. (See chapter on"Narration.")

11. Experiments have proved that themajority of people think most vividly interms of visual images. However, somethink more readily in terms of auditoryand motor images. It is a good plan to

mix all kinds of images in the course ofyour address for you will doubtless haveall kinds of hearers. This plan will serveto give variety and strengthen youreffects by appealing to the severalsenses of each hearer, as well asinteresting many different auditors. Forexercise, (a) give several originalexamples of compound images, and (b)construct brief descriptions of the scenesimagined. For example, the falling of abridge in process of building.

12. Read the following observantly:

The strikers suffered bitter povertylast winter in New York.Last winter a woman visiting theEast Side of New York City saw

another woman coming out of atenement house wringing her hands.Upon inquiry the visitor found thata child had fainted in one of theapartments. She entered, and sawthe child ill and in rags, while thefather, a striker, was too poor toprovide medical help. A physicianwas called and said the child hadfainted from lack of food. The onlyfood in the home was dried fish.The visitor provided groceries forthe family and ordered the milkmanto leave milk for them daily. Amonth later she returned. The fatherof the family knelt down before her,and calling her an angel said thatshe had saved their lives, for the

milk she had provided was all thefood they had had.

In the two preceding paragraphs wehave substantially the same story, toldtwice. In the first paragraph we have afact stated in general terms. In thesecond, we have an outline picture of aspecific happening. Now expand thisoutline into a dramatic recital, drawingfreely upon your imagination.

27ChapterGROWING AVOCABULARY

Boys flying kites haul in their whitewinged birds;You can't do that way when you'reflying words."Careful with fire," is good advicewe know,"Careful with words," is ten times

doubly so.Thoughts unexpressed manysometimes fall back dead;But God Himself can't kill themwhen they're said.

—Will Carleton, The FirstSettler's Story.

The term "vocabulary" has a specialas well as a general meaning.True, all vocabularies are grounded inthe everyday words of the language, outof which grow the special vocabularies,but each such specialized grouppossesses a number of words of peculiarvalue for its own objects. These wordsmay be used in other vocabularies also,but the fact that they are suited to a

unique order of expression marks themas of special value to a particular craftor calling.

In this respect the public speakerdiffers not at all from the poet, thenovelist, the scientist, the traveler. Hemust add to his everyday stock, words ofvalue for the public presentation ofthought. "A study of the discourses ofeffective orators discloses the fact thatthey have a fondness for wordssignifying power, largeness, speed,action, color, light, and all theiropposites. They frequently employwords expressive of the variousemotions. Descriptive words, adjectivesused in fresh relations with nouns, andapt epithets, are freely employed.

Indeed, the nature of public speechpermits the use of mildly exaggeratedwords which, by the time they havereached the hearer's judgment, willleave only a just impression."[33]

Form the Book-Note HabitTo possess a word involves three

things: To know its special and broadermeanings, to know its relation to otherwords, and to be able to use it. Whenyou see or hear a familiar word used inan unfamiliar sense, jot it down, look itup, and master it. We have in mind aspeaker of superior attainments whoacquired his vocabulary by noting allnew words he heard or read. These hemastered and put into use. Soon hisvocabulary became large, varied, and

exact. Use a new word accurately fivetimes and it is yours. Professor Albert E.Hancock says: "An author's vocabularyis of two kinds, latent and dynamic:latent—those words he understands;dynamic—those he can readily use.Every intelligent man knows all thewords he needs, but he may not havethem all ready for active service. Theproblem of literary diction consists inturning the latent into the dynamic." Yourdynamic vocabulary is the one you mustespecially cultivate.

In his essay on "A College Magazine"in the volume, Memories and Portraits,Stevenson shows how he rose fromimitation to originality in the use ofwords. He had particular reference to

the formation of his literary style, butwords are the raw materials of style, andhis excellent example may well befollowed judiciously by thepublic speaker. Words in theirrelations are vastly more important thanwords considered singly.

Whenever I read a book or apassage that particularly pleasedme, in which a thing was said or aneffect rendered with propriety, inwhich there was either someconspicuous force or some happydistinction in the style, I must sitdown at once and set myself to apethat quality. I was unsuccessful, andI knew it; and tried again, and was

again unsuccessful, and alwaysunsuccessful; but at least in thesevain bouts I got some practice inrhythm, in harmony, in constructionand coördination of parts.I have thus played the sedulous apeto Hazlitt, to Lamb, to Wordsworth,to Sir Thomas Browne, to Defoe, toHawthorne, to Montaigne.That, like it or not, is the way tolearn to write; whether I haveprofited or not, that is the way. Itwas the way Keats learned, andthere never was a finertemperament for literature thanKeats'.It is the great point of theseimitations that there still shines

beyond the student's reach, hisinimitable model. Let him try as heplease, he is still sure of failure;and it is an old and very true sayingthat failure is the only highroad tosuccess.

Form the Reference-Book HabitDo not be content with your general

knowledge of a word—press your studyuntil you have mastered its individualshades of meaning and usage. Merefluency is sure to become despicable,but accuracy never. The dictionarycontains the crystallized usage ofintellectual giants. No one who wouldwrite effectively dare despise itsdefinitions and discriminations. Think,

for example, of the different meaningso f mantle, or model, or quantity. Anylate edition of an unabridged dictionaryis good, and is worth making sacrificesto own.

Books of synonyms and antonyms—used cautiously, for there arefew perfect synonyms in any language—will be found of great help. Consider theshades of meanings among such word-groups as thief, peculator, defaulter,embezzler, burglar, yeggman, robber,bandit, marauder, pirate , and manymore; or the distinctions among Hebrew,Jew, Israelite, and Semite. Rememberthat no book of synonyms is trustworthyunless used with a dictionary. "AThesaurus of the English Language," by

Dr. Francis A. March, is expensive, butfull and authoritative. Of smaller booksof synonyms and antonyms there areplenty.[34]

Study the connectives of Englishspeech. Fernald's book on this title is amine of gems. Unsuspected pitfalls lie inthe loose use ofand, or, for, while , and ascore of tricky little connectives.

Word derivations are rich insuggestiveness. Our English owes somuch to foreign tongues and has changedso much with the centuries that wholeaddresses may grow out of a single root-idea hidden away in an ancient word-origin. Translation, also, is excellentexercise in word-mastery and consortswell with the study of derivations.

Phrase books that show the origins offamiliar expressions will surprise mostof us by showing how carelesslyeveryday speech is used. Brewer's "ADictionary of Phrase, and Fable,"Edwards' "Words, Facts, and Phrases,"and Thornton's "An American Glossary,"are all good—the last, an expensivework in three volumes.

A prefix or a suffix may essentiallychange the force of the stem, asi n master-ful and master-ly, contempt-ible and contempt-uous, envi-ous and envi-able. Thus to study wordsin groups, according to their stems,prefixes, and suffixes is to gain amastery over their shades of meaning,and introduce us to other related words.

Do not Favor one Set or Kind ofWords more than Another

"Sixty years and more ago, LordBrougham, addressing the students of theUniversity of Glasgow, laid down therule that the native (Anglo-Saxon) partof our vocabulary was to be favored atthe expense of that other part which hascome from the Latin and Greek. The rulewas an impossible one, and LordBrougham himself never tried seriouslyto observe it; nor, in truth, has any greatwriter made the attempt. Not only is ourlanguage highly composite, but thecomponent words have, in De Quincey'sphrase, 'happily coalesced.' It is easy tojest at words in -osity and -ation, as'dictionary' words, and the like. But even

Lord Brougham would have found itdifficult to dispensewith pomposity and imagination."[35]

The short, vigorous Anglo-Saxon willalways be preferred for passages ofspecial thrust and force, just as the Latinwill continue to furnish us with flowingand smooth expressions; to mingle allsorts, however, will give variety—andthat is most to be desired.

Discuss Words With Those WhoKnow Them

Since the language of the platformfollows closely the diction of everydayspeech, many useful words maybe acquired in conversation withcultivated men, and when suchdiscussion takes the form of disputation

as to the meanings and usages of words,it will prove doubly valuable. Thedevelopment of word-power marcheswith the growth of individuality.

Search Faithfully for the Right WordBooks of reference are tripled in

value when their owner has a passionfor getting the kernels out of their shells.Ten minutes a day will do wonders forthe nut-cracker. "I am growing sopeevish about my writing," saysFlaubert. "I am like a man whose ear istrue, but who plays falsely on the violin:his fingers refuse to reproduce preciselythose sounds of which he has the inwardsense. Then the tears come rolling downfrom the poor scraper's eyes and thebow falls from his hand."

The same brilliant Frenchman sentthis sound advice to his pupil, Guy deMaupassant: "Whatever may be the thingwhich one wishes to say, there is but oneword for expressing it, only one verb toanimate it, only one adjective to qualifyit. It is essential to search for this word,for this verb, for this adjective, until theyare discovered, and to be satisfied withnothing else."

Walter Savage Landor once wrote: "Ihate false words, and seek with care,difficulty, and moroseness those that fitthe thing." So did Sentimental Tommy,as related by James M. Barrie in hisnovel bearing his hero's name as a title.No wonder T. Sandys became an authorand a lion!

Tommy, with another lad, is writingan essay on "A Day in Church," incompetition for a university scholarship.He gets on finely until he pauses for lackof a word. For nearly an hour hesearches for this elusive thing, untilsuddenly he is told that the allotted timeis up, and he has lost! Barrie may tell therest:

Essay! It was no more an essay thana twig is a tree, for the gowk hadstuck in the middle of his secondpage. Yes, stuck is the rightexpression, as his chagrinedteacher had to admit when the boywas cross-examined. He had notbeen "up to some of his tricks;" he

had stuck, and his explanations, asyou will admit, merely emphasizedhis incapacity.He had brought himself to publicscorn for lack of a word. Whatword? they asked testily; but evennow he could not tell. He hadwanted a Scotch word that wouldsignify how many people were inchurch, and it was on the tip of histongue, but would come no farther.Puckle was nearly the word, but itdid not mean so many people as hemeant. The hour had gone by justlike winking; he had forgotten allabout time while searching hismind for the word.Mr. Ogilvy … said in an ecstasy to

himself, "He had to think of it tillhe got it—and he got it. The laddieis a genius!" The other five [examiners] werefurious… . "You little tattiedoolie," Cathro roared, "were therenot a dozen words to wile from ifyou had an ill-will to puckle? Whatailed you at manzy, or—""I thought of manzy," repliedTommy, woefully, for he wasashamed of himself, "but—but amanzy's a swarm. It would meanthat the folk in the kirk werebuzzing thegither like bees, insteadof sitting still.""Even if it does mean that," said

Mr. Duthie, with impatience, "whatwas the need of being soparticular? Surely the art of essay-writing consists in using the firstword that comes and hurrying on.""That's how I did," said the proudMcLauchlan [Tommy's successfulcompetitor]… ."I see," interposed Mr. Gloag, "thatMcLauchlan speaks of there being amask of people in the church. Maskis a fine Scotch word.""I thought of mask," whimperedTommy, "but that would mean thekirk was crammed, and I just meantit to be middling full.""Flow would have done,"suggested Mr. Lonimer.

"Flow's but a handful," saidTommy."Curran, then, you jackanapes!""Curran's no enough."Mr. Lorrimer flung up his hands indespair."I wanted something betweencurran and mask," said Tommy,doggedly, yet almost at the crying.Mr. Ogilvy, who had been hidinghis admiration with difficulty,spread a net for him. "You said youwanted a word that meant middlingfull. Well, why did you not saymiddling full—or fell mask?""Yes, why not?" demanded theministers, unconsciously caught inthe net.

"I wanted one word," repliedTommy, unconsciously avoiding it."You jewel!" muttered Mr. Ogilvyunder his breath, but Mr. Cathrowould have banged the boy's headhad not the ministers interfered."It is so easy, too, to find the rightword," said Mr. Gloag."It's no; it's difficult as to hit asquirrel," cried Tommy, and againMr. Ogilvy nodded approval. And then an odd thing happened. Asthey were preparing to leave theschool [Cathro having previouslyrun Tommy out by the neck], thedoor opened a little and thereappeared in the aperture the face of

Tommy, tear-stained but excited. "Iken the word now," he cried, "itcame to me a' at once; it is hantle!"

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What is the derivation of theword vocabulary?

2. Briefly discuss any completespeech given in this volume, withreference to (a) exactness, (b) variety,and (c) charm, in the use of words.

3. Give original examples of the kindsof word-studies referred to on pages 337and 338.

4. Deliver a short talk on any subject,using at least five words which have notbeen previously in your "dynamic"

vocabulary.5. Make a list of the unfamiliar words

found in any address you may select.6. Deliver a short extemporaneous

speech giving your opinions on themerits and demerits of the use of unusualwords in public speaking.

7. Try to find an example of the over-use of unusual words in a speech.

8. Have you used reference books inword studies? If so, state with whatresult.

9. Find as many synonyms andantonyms as possible for each of thefollowing words: Excess, Rare, Severe,Beautiful, Clear, Happy, Difference,Care, Skillful, Involve, Enmity, Profit,Absurd, Evident, Faint, Friendly,

Harmony, Hatred, Honest, Inherent.

28ChapterMEMORYTRAINING

Lulled in the countless chambers ofthe brain,Our thoughts are linked by many ahidden chain;Awake but one, and lo! whatmyriads rise!Each stamps its image as the other

flies! Hail, memory, hail! in thyexhaustless mineFrom age to age unnumber'dtreasures shine!Thought and her shadowy brood thycall obey,And Place and Time are subject tothy sway!

—Samuel Rogers, Pleasures ofMemory.

Many an orator, like Thackeray, hasmade the best part of his speech tohimself—on the way home from thelecture hall. Presence of mind—itremained for Mark Twain to observe—

is greatly promoted by absence of body.A hole in the memory is no less acommon complaint than a distressingone.

Henry Ward Beecher was able todeliver one of the world's greatestaddresses at Liverpool because of hisexcellent memory. In speaking of theoccasion Mr. Beecher said that all theevents, arguments and appeals that hehad ever heard or read or writtenseemed to pass before his mind asoratorical weapons, and standing therehe had but to reach forth his hand and"seize the weapons as they went smokingby." Ben Jonson could repeat all he hadwritten. Scaliger memorized the Iliad inthree weeks. Locke says: "Without

memory, man is a perpetual infant."Quintilian and Aristotle regarded it as ameasure of genius.

Now all this is very good. We allagree that a reliable memory is aninvaluable possession for the speaker.We never dissent for a moment when weare solemnly told that his memory shouldbe a storehouse from which at pleasurehe can draw facts, fancies, andillustrations. But can the memory betrained to act as the warder for all thetruths that we have gained from thinking,reading, and experience? And if so,how? Let us see.

Twenty years ago a poor immigrantboy, employed as a dish washer in NewYork, wandered into the Cooper Union

and began to read a copy of HenryGeorge's "Progress and Poverty." Hispassion for knowledge was awakened,and he became a habitual reader. But hefound that he was not able to rememberwhat he read, so he began to train hisnaturally poor memory until he becamethe world's greatest memory expert. Thisman was the late Mr. Felix Berol. Mr.Berol could tell the population of anytown in the world, of more than fivethousand inhabitants. He could recall thenames of forty strangers who had justbeen introduced to him and was able totell which had been presented third,eighth, seventeenth, or in any order. Heknew the date of every important eventin history, and could not only recall an

endless array of facts but could correlatethem perfectly.

To what extent Mr. Berol'sremarkable memory was natural andrequired only attention, for itsdevelopment, seems impossible todetermine with exactness, but theevidence clearly indicates that, howeveruseless were many of his memory feats,a highly retentive memory wasdeveloped where before only "a goodforgettery" existed.

The freak memory is not worthstriving for, but a good working memorydecidedly is. Your power as a speakerwill depend to a large extent upon yourability to retain impressions and callthem forth when occasion demands, and

that sort of memory is like muscle—itresponds to training.

What Not to DoIt is sheer misdirected effort to begin

to memorize by learning words by rote,for that is beginning to build a pyramidat the apex. For years our schools werecursed by this vicious system—viciousnot only because it is inefficient but forthe more important reason that it hurtsthe mind. True, some minds are nativelyendowed with a wonderful facility inremembering strings of words, facts, andfigures, but such are rarely goodreasoning minds; the normal person mustbelabor and force the memory to acquirein this artificial way.

Again, it is hurtful to force the

memory in hours of physical weaknessor mental weariness. Health is the basisof the best mental action and theoperation of memory is no exception.

Finally, do not become a slave to asystem. Knowledge of a few simplefacts of mind and memory will set you towork at the right end of the operation.Use these principles, whether includedin a system or not, but do not bindyourself to a method that tends to laymore stress on the way to remember thanon the development of memory itself. Itis nothing short of ridiculous tomemorize ten words in order toremember one fact.

The Natural Laws of MemoryConcentrated attention at the time

when you wish to store the mind is thefirst step in memorizing—and the mostimportant one by far. You forgot thefourth of the list of articles your wifeasked you to bring home chiefly becauseyou allowed your attention to waver foran instant when she was telling you.Attention may not be concentratedattention. When a siphon is charged withgas it is sufficiently filled with thecarbonic acid vapor to make itsinfluence felt; a mind charged with anidea is charged to a degree sufficient tohold it. Too much charging will make thesiphon burst; too much attention to triflesleads to insanity. Adequate attention,then, is the fundamental secret ofremembering.

Generally we do not give a factadequate attention when it does not seemimportant. Almost everyone has seenhow the seeds in an apple point, and hasmemorized the date of Washington'sdeath. Most of us have—perhaps wisely—forgotten both. The little nick in thebark of a tree is healed over andobliterated in a season, but the gashes inthe trees around Gettysburg are stillapparent after fifty years. Impressionsthat are gathered lightly are soonobliterated. Only deep impressions canbe recalled at will. Henry Ward Beechersaid: "One intense hour will do morethan dreamy years." To memorize ideasand words, concentrate on them untilthey are fixed firmly and deeply in your

mind and accord to them their trueimportance. Listen with the mind andyou will remember.

How shall you concentrate? Howwould you increase the fighting-effectiveness of a man-of-war? One vitalway would be to increase the size andnumber of its guns. To strengthen yourmemory, increase both the number andthe force of your mental impressions byattending to them intensely. Loose,skimming reading, and drifting habits ofreading destroy memory power.However, as most books andnewspapers do not warrant any otherkind of attention, it will not do altogetherto condemn this method of reading; butavoid it when you are trying to

memorize.Environment has a strong influence

upon concentration, until you havelearned to be alone in a crowd andundisturbed by clamor. When you set outto memorize a fact or a speech, you mayfind the task easier away from all soundsand moving objects. All impressionsforeign to the one you desire to fix inyour mind must be eliminated.

The next great step in memorizing isto pick out the essentials of the subject,arrange them in order, and dwell uponthem intently. Think clearly of eachessential, one after the other. Thinking athing—not allowing the mind to wanderto non-essentials—is really memorizing.

Association of ideas is universally

recognized as an essential in memorywork; indeed, whole systems of memorytraining have been founded on thisprinciple.

Many speakers memorize only theoutlines of their addresses, filling in thewords at the moment of speaking. Somehave found it helpful to remember anoutline by associating the differentpoints with objects in the room.Speaking on "Peace," you may wish todwell on the cost the cruelty, and thefailure of war, and so lead to the justiceof arbitration. Before going on theplatform if you will associate fourdivisions of your outline with fourobjects in the room, this association mayhelp you to recall them. You may be

prone to forget your third point, but youremember that once when you werespeaking the electric lights failed, soarbitrarily the electric light globe willhelp you to remember "failure." Suchassociations, being unique, tend to stickin the mind. While recently speaking onthe six kinds of imagination the presentwriter formed them into an acrostic—visual, auditory, motor, gustatory, olfactorya n d tactile, furnished the nonsenseword vamgot, but the six points wereeasily remembered.

In the same way that children aretaught to remember the spelling ofteasing words—separate comesf r o m separ—and as an automobiledriver remembers that two C's and then

two H's lead him into Castor Road,Cottman Street, Haynes Street and HenryStreet, so important points in youraddress may be fixed in mind byarbitrary symbols invented by yourself.The very work of devising the scheme isa memory action. The psychologicalprocess is simple: it is one of notingintently the steps by which a fact, or atruth, or even a word, has come to you.Take advantage of this tendency of themind to remember by association.

Repetition is a powerful aid tomemory. Thurlow Weed, the journalistand political leader, was troubledbecause he so easily forgot the names ofpersons he met from day to day. Hecorrected the weakness, relates

Professor William James, by forming thehabit of attending carefully to names hehad heard during the day and thenrepeating them to his wife everyevening. Doubtless Mrs. Weed washeroically longsuffering, but the deviceworked admirably.

After reading a passage you wouldremember, close the book, reflect, andrepeat the contents—aloud, if possible.

Reading thoughtfully aloud has beenfound by many to be a helpful memorypractise.

Write what you wish toremember. This is simply one more wayof increasing the number and the strengthof your mental impressions byutilizing all your avenues of impression.

It will help to fix a speech in your mindif you speak it aloud, listen to it, write itout, and look at it intently. You have thenimpressed it on your mind by means ofvocal, auditory, muscular and visualimpressions.

Some folk have peculiarly distinctauditory memories; they are able torecall things heard much better thanthings seen. Others have the visualmemory; they are best able to recallsight-impressions. As you recall a walkyou have taken, are you able toremember better the sights or thesounds? Find out what kinds ofimpressions your memory retains best,and use them the most. To fix an idea inmind, use every possible kind of

impression.Daily habit is a great memory

cultivator. Learn a lesson from theMarathon runner. Regular exercise,though never so little daily, willstrengthen your memory in a surprisingmeasure. Try to describe in detail thedress, looks and manner of the peopleyou pass on the street. Observe the roomyou are in, close your eyes, and describeits contents. View closely the landscape,and write out a detailed description of it.How much did you miss? Notice thecontents of the show windows on thestreet; how many features are you able torecall? Continual practise in this featmay develop in you as remarkableproficiency as it did in Robert Houdin

and his son.The daily memorizing of a beautiful

passage in literature will not only lendstrength to the memory, but will store themind with gems for quotation. Butwhether by little or much add daily toyour memory power by practise.

Memorize out of doors. The buoyancyof the wood, the shore, or the stormynight on deserted streets may freshenyour mind as it does the minds ofcountless others.

Lastly, cast out fear. Tell yourselfthat you can and will and do remember.By pure exercise of selfism assert yourmastery. Be obsessed with the fear offorgetting and you cannot remember.Practise the reverse. Throw aside your

manuscript crutches—you may tumbleonce or twice, but what matters that, foryou are going to learn to walk and leapand run.

Memorizing a SpeechNow let us try to put into practise the

foregoing suggestions. First, reread thischapter, noting the nine ways by whichmemorizing may be helped.

Then read over the followingselection from Beecher, applying somany of the suggestions as arepracticable. Get the spirit of theselection firmly in your mind.Make mental note of—write down, ifyou must—the succession of ideas. Nowmemorize the thought. Then memorizethe outline, the order in which the

different ideas are expressed. Finally,memorize the exact wording.

No, when you have done all this, withthe most faithful attention to directions,you will not find memorizing easy,unless you have previously trained yourmemory, or it is naturally retentive. Onlyby constant practise will memorybecome strong and only by continuallyobserving these same principles will itremain strong. You will, however, havemade a beginning, and that is no meanmatter.

THE REIGN OF THE COMMONPEOPLEI do not suppose that if you were togo and look upon the experiment of

self-government in America youwould have a very high opinion ofit. I have not either, if I just lookupon the surface of things. Why,men will say: "It stands to reasonthat 60,000,000 ignorant of law,ignorant of constitutional history,ignorant of jurisprudence, offinance, and taxes and tariffs andforms of currency—60,000,000people that never studied thesethings—are not fit to rule." Yourdiplomacy is as complicated asours, and it is the most complicatedon earth, for all things grow incomplexity as they develop towarda higher condition. What fitness isthere in these people? Well, it is

not democracy merely; it is arepresentative democracy. Ourpeople do not vote in mass foranything; they pick out captains ofthought, they pick out the men thatdo know, and they send them to theLegislature to think for them, andthen the people afterward ratify ordisallow them.But when you come to theLegislature I am bound to confessthat the thing does not look verymuch more cheering on the outside.Do they really select the best men?Yes; in times of danger they dovery generally, but in ordinary time,"kissing goes by favor." You knowwhat the duty of a regular

Republican-Democratic legislatoris. It is to get back again nextwinter. His second duty is what?His second duty is to put himselfunder that extraordinary providencethat takes care of legislators'salaries. The old miracle of theprophet and the meal and the oil isoutdone immeasurably in our days,for they go there poor one year, andgo home rich; in four years theybecome moneylenders, all by a trustin that gracious providence thattakes care of legislators' salaries.Their next duty after that is to servethe party that sent them up, and then,if there is anything left of them, itbelongs to the commonwealth.

Someone has said very wisely, thatif a man traveling wishes to relishhis dinner he had better not go intothe kitchen to see where it iscooked; if a man wishes to respectand obey the law, he had better notgo to the Legislature to see wherethat is cooked.

—Henry Ward Beecher.

From a lecture delivered in ExeterHall, London, 1886, when making hislast tour of Great Britain.

In Case of TroubleBut what are you to do if,

notwithstanding all your efforts, youshould forget your points, and your mind,for the minute, becomes blank? This is a

deplorable condition that sometimesarises and must be dealt with.Obviously, you can sit down and admitdefeat. Such a consummation is devoutlyto be shunned.

Walking slowly across the platformmay give you time to grip yourself,compose your thoughts, and stave offdisaster. Perhaps the surest and mostpractical method is to begin a newsentence with your last important word.This is not advocated as a method ofcomposing a speech—it is merely anextreme measure which may save you intight circumstances. It is like the firedepartment—the less you must use it thebetter. If this method is followed verylong you are likely to find yourself

talking about plum pudding or ChineseGordon in the most unexpected manner,so of course you will get back to yourlines the earliest moment that your feethave hit the platform.

Let us see how this plan works—obviously, your extemporized wordswill lack somewhat of polish, but insuch a pass crudity is better than failure.

Now you have come to a dead wallafter saying: "Joan of Arc fought forliberty." By this method you might getsomething like this:

"Liberty is a sacred privilege forwhich mankind always had to fight.These struggles [Platitude—but push on]fill the pages of history. History recordsthe gradual triumph of the serf over the

lord, the slave over the master. Themaster has continually tried to usurpunlimited powers. Power during themedieval ages accrued to the owner ofthe land with a spear and a strong castle;but the strong castle and spear were oflittle avail after the discovery ofgunpowder. Gunpowder was the greatestboon that liberty had ever known."

Thus far you have linked one ideawith another rather obviously, but youare getting your second wind now andmay venture to relax your grip on thetoo-evident chain; and so you say:

"With gunpowder the humblest serf inall the land could put an end to the life ofthe tyrannical baron behind the castlewalls. The struggle for liberty, with

gunpowder as its aid, wrecked empires,and built up a new era for all mankind."

In a moment more you have gottenback to your outline and the day issaved.

Practising exercises like the above

will not only fortify you against the deathof your speech when your memorymisses fire, but it will also provide anexcellent training for fluency inspeaking. Stock up with ideas.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Pick out and state briefly the nine

helps to memorizing suggested in thischapter.

2. Report on whatever success youmay have had with any of the plans formemory culture suggested in thischapter. Have any been less successfulthan others?

3. Freely criticise any of the suggestedmethods.

4. Give an original example ofmemory by association of ideas.

5. List in order the chief ideas of anyspeech in this volume.

6. Repeat them from memory.7. Expand them into a speech, using

your own words.8. Illustrate practically what would

you do, if in the midst of a speech onProgress, your memory failed you andyou stopped suddenly on the following

sentence: "The last century sawmarvelous progress in varied lines ofactivity."

9. How many quotations that fit wellin the speaker's tool chest can you recallfrom memory?

10. Memorize the poem on page42. How much time does it require?

29ChapterRIGHT THINKINGAND PERSONALITY

Whatever crushes individuality isdespotism, by whatever name itmay be called.—John StuartMill, On Liberty.Right thinking fits for completeliving by developing the power toappreciate the beautiful in nature

and art, power to think the true andto will the good, power to live thelife of thought, and faith, and hope,and love.

—N.C. Schaeffer, Thinking andLearning to Think.

The speaker's most valuablepossession is personality—thatindefinable, imponderable somethingwhich sums up what we are, and makesus different from others; that distinctiveforce of self which operates appreciablyon those whose lives we touch. It ispersonality alone that makes us long forhigher things. Rob us of our sense ofindividual life, with its gains and losses,its duties and joys, and we grovel. "Few

human creatures," says John Stuart Mill,"would consent to be changed into any ofthe lower animals for a promise of thefullest allowance of a beast's pleasures;no intelligent human being wouldconsent to be a fool, no instructed personwould be an ignoramus, no person offeeling and conscience would be selfishand base, even though he should bepersuaded that the fool, or the dunce, orthe rascal is better satisfied with his lotthan they with theirs… . It is better to bea human being dissatisfied than a pigsatisfied, better to be a Socratesdissatisfied than a fool satisfied. And ift he fool or the pig is of a differentopinion, it is only because they knowonly their own side of the question. The

other party to the comparison knowsboth sides."

Now it is precisely because theSocrates type of person lives on the planof right thinking and restrained feelingand willing that he prefers his state tothat of the animal. All that a man is, allhis happiness, his sorrow, hisachievements, his failures, hismagnetism, his weakness, all are in anamazingly large measure the directresults of his thinking. Thought and heartcombine to produce rightthinking: "As aman thinketh in his heart so is he." As hedoes not think in his heart so he cannever become.

Since this is true, personality can bedeveloped and its latent powers brought

out by careful cultivation. We have longsince ceased to believe that we areliving in a realm of chance. So clear andexact are nature's laws that we forecast,scores of years in advance, theappearance of a certain comet andforetell to the minute an eclipse of theSun. And we understand this law ofcause and effect in all our materialrealms. We do not plant potatoes andexpect to pluck hyacinths. The law isuniversal: it applies to our mentalpowers, to morality, to personality, quiteas much as to the heavenly bodies andthe grain of the fields. "Whatsoever aman soweth that shall he also reap," andnothing else.

Character has always been regarded

as one of the chief factors of thespeaker's power. Cato defined the oratora s vir bonus dicendi peritus—a goodman skilled in speaking. Phillips Brookssays: "Nobody can truly stand as autterer before the world, unless he beprofoundly living and earnestlythinking." "Character," says Emerson, "isa natural power, like light and heat, andall nature cooperates with it. The reasonwhy we feel one man's presence, and donot feel another's is as simple as gravity.Truth is the summit of being: justice isthe application of it to affairs. Allindividual natures stand in a scale,according to the purity of this element inthem. The will of the pure runs downinto other natures, as water runs down

from a higher into a lower vessel. Thisnatural force is no more to be withstoodthan any other natural force… .Character is nature in the highest form."

It is absolutely impossible for impure,bestial and selfish thoughts to blossominto loving and altruistic habits. Thistleseeds bring forth only the thistle.Contrariwise, it is entirely impossiblefor continual altruistic, sympathetic, andserviceful thoughts to bring forth a lowand vicious character. Either thoughts orfeelings precede and determine all ouractions. Actions develop into habits,habits constitute character, and characterdetermines destiny. Therefore to guardour thoughts and control our feelings isto shape our destinies. The syllogism is

complete, and old as it is it is still true.Since "character is nature in the

highest form," the development ofcharacter must proceed on natural lines.The garden left to itself will bring forthweeds and scrawny plants, but theflower-beds nurtured carefully willblossom into fragrance and beauty.

As the student entering college largelydetermines his vocation by choosingfrom the different courses of thecurriculum, so do we choose ourcharacters by choosing our thoughts. Weare steadily going up toward that whichwe most wish for, or steadily sinking tothe level of our low desires. What wesecretly cherish in our hearts is a symbolof what we shall receive. Our trains of

thoughts are hurrying us on to ourdestiny. When you see the flag flutteringto the South, you know the wind iscoming from the North. When you seethe straws and papers being carried tothe Northward you realize the wind isblowing out of the South. It is just aseasy to ascertain a man's thoughts byobserving the tendency of his character.

Let it not be suspected for one momentthat all this is merely a preachment onthe question of morals. It is that, butmuch more, for it touches the whole man—his imaginative nature, his ability tocontrol his feelings, the mastery of histhinking faculties, and—perhaps mostlargely—his power to will and to carryhis volitions into effective action.

Right thinking constantly assumes thatthe will sits enthroned to execute thedictates of mind, conscience andheart. Never tolerate for an instant thesuggestion that your will is notabsolutely efficient. The way to will isto will—and the very first time you aretempted to break a worthy resolution—and you will be, you may be certain ofthat—make your fight then and there.You cannot afford to lose that fight.You must win it—don't swerve for aninstant, but keep that resolution if it killsyou. It will not, but you must fight just asthough life depended on the victory; andindeed your personality may actually liein the balances!

Your success or failure as a speaker

will be determined very largely by yourthoughts and your mental attitude. Thepresent writer had a student of limitededucation enter one of his classes inpublic speaking. He proved to be a verypoor speaker; and the instructor couldconscientiously do little but point outfaults. However, the young man waswarned not to be discouraged. Withsorrow in his voice and the essence ofearnestness beaming from his eyes, hereplied: "I will not be discouraged! Iwant so badly to know how to speak!" Itwas warm, human, and from the veryheart. And he did keep on trying—anddeveloped into a creditable speaker.

There is no power under the stars thatcan defeat a man with that attitude. He

who down in the deeps of his heartearnestly longs to get facility inspeaking, and is willing to make thesacrifices necessary, will reach his goal."Ask and ye shall receive; seek and yeshall find; knock and it shall be openedunto you," is indeed applicable to thosewho would acquire speech-power. Youwill not realize the prize that you wishfor languidly, but the goal that you startout to attain with the spirit of the oldguard that dies but never surrenders, youwill surely reach.

Your belief in your ability and yourwillingness to make sacrifices for thatbelief, are the double index to yourfuture achievements. Lincoln had adream of his possibilities as a speaker.

He transmuted that dream into life solelybecause he walked many miles toborrow books which he read by the log-fire glow at night. He sacrificed much torealize his vision. Livingstone had agreat faith in his ability to serve thebenighted races of Africa. To actualizethat faith he gave up all. LeavingEngland for the interior of the DarkContinent he struck the death blow toEurope's profits from the slave trade.Joan of Arc had great self-confidence,glorified by an infinite capacity forsacrifice. She drove the English beyondthe Loire, and stood beside Charleswhile he was crowned.

These all realized their strongestdesires. The law is universal. Desire

greatly, and you shall achieve; sacrificemuch, and you shall obtain.

Stanton Davis Kirkham has beautifullyexpressed this thought: "You may bekeeping accounts, and presently youshall walk out of the door that has for solong seemed to you the barrier of yourideals, and shall find yourself before anaudience—the pen still behind your ear,the ink stains on your fingers—and thenand there shall pour out the torrent ofyour inspiration. You may be drivingsheep, and you shall wander to the city—bucolic and open-mouthed; shallwander under the intrepid guidance ofthe spirit into the studio of the master,and after a time he shall say, 'I havenothing more to teach you.' And now you

have become the master, who did sorecently dream of great things whiledriving sheep. You shall lay down thesaw and the plane to take upon yourselfthe regeneration of the world."

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What, in your own words, is

personality?2. How does personality in a speaker

affect you as a listener?3. In what ways does personality

show itself in a speaker?4. Deliver a short speech on "The

Power of Will in the Public Speaker."5. Deliver a short address based on

any sentence you choose from this

chapter.

30ChapterAFTER-DINNERAND OTHEROCCASIONALSPEAKING

The perception of the ludicrous is apledge of sanity.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays.And let him be sure to leave other

men their turns to speak.—Francis Bacon, Essay on Civil

and Moral Discourse.

Perhaps the most brilliant, andcertainly the most entertaining, of allspeeches are those delivered on after-dinner and other special occasions. Theair of well-fed content in the former, andof expectancy well primed in the latter,furnishes an audience which, though notreadily won, is prepared for the best,while the speaker himself is pretty sureto have been chosen for his gifts oforatory.

The first essential of good occasionalspeaking is to study the occasion.Precisely what is the object of the

meeting? How important is the occasionto the audience? How large will theaudience be? What sort of people arethey? How large is the auditorium? Whoselects the speakers' themes? Who elseis to speak? What are they to speakabout? Precisely how long am I tospeak? Who speaks before I do and whofollows?

If you want to hit the nail on the headask such questions as these.[36] Nooccasional address can succeed unless itfits the occasion to a T. Many prominentmen have lost prestige because theywere too careless or too busy or tooself-confident to respect the occasionand the audience by learning the exactconditions under which they were to

speak. Leaving too much to the momentis taking a long chance and generallymeans a less effective speech, if not afailure.

Suitability is the big thing in anoccasional speech. When Mark Twainaddressed the Army of the Tennessee inreunion at Chicago, in 1877, heresponded to the toast, "The Babies."Two things in that after-dinner speechare remarkable: the bright introduction,by which he subtly claimed the interestof all, and the humorous use of militaryterms throughout:

Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen: "TheBabies." Now, that's somethinglike. We haven't all had the good

fortune to be ladies; we have not allbeen generals, or poets, orstatesmen; but when the toast worksdown to the babies, we stand oncommon ground—for we've allbeen babies. It is a shame that for athousand years the world's banquetshave utterly ignored the baby, as ifhe didn't amount to anything! If you,gentlemen, will stop and think aminute—if you will go back fifty ora hundred years, to your earlymarried life, and recontemplateyour first baby—you willremember that he amounted to agood deal—and even somethingover.

"As a vessel is known by the sound,whether it be cracked or not," saidDemosthenes, "so men are proved bytheir speeches whether they be wise orfoolish." Surely the occasional addressfurnishes a severe test of a speaker'swisdom. To be trivial on a seriousoccasion, to be funereal at a banquet, tobe long-winded ever—these are themarks of non-sense. Some imprudentsouls seem to select the most friendly ofafter-dinner occasions for the explosionof a bomb-shell of dispute. Around thedinner table it is the custom of evenpolitical enemies to bury their hatchetsanywhere rather than in some convenientskull. It is the height of bad taste to raisequestions that in hours consecrated to

good-will can only irritate.Occasional speeches offer good

chances for humor, particularly the funnystory, for humor with a genuine point isnot trivial. But do not spin a whole skeinof humorous yarns with no moreconnection than the inane and threadbare"And that reminds me." An anecdotewithout bearing may be funny but oneless funny that fits theme and occasion isfar preferable. There is no way, short ofsheer power of speech, that so surelyleads to the heart of an audience as rich,appropriate humor. The scattered dinersin a great banqueting hall, the after-dinner lethargy, the anxiety overapproaching last-train time, the over-fulllist of over-full speakers—all throw out

a challenge to the speaker to do his bestto win an interested hearing. And whensuccess does come it is usually due to ahappy mixture of seriousness and humor,for humor alone rarely scores so heavilyas the two combined, while the utterlygrave speech never does on suchoccasions.

If there is one place more than anotherwhere second-hand opinions andplatitudes are unwelcome it is in theafter-dinner speech. Whether you aretoast-master or the last speaker to try tohold the waning crowd at midnight, beas original as you can. How is itpossible to summarize the qualities thatgo to make up the good after-dinnerspeech, when we remember the

inimitable serious-drollery of MarkTwain, the sweet southern eloquence ofHenry W. Grady, the funereal gravity ofthe humorous Charles Battell Loomis,the charm of Henry Van Dyke, thegeniality of F. Hopkinson Smith, and theall-round delightfulness of Chauncey M.Depew? America is literally rich in suchgladsome speakers, who punctuate realsense with nonsense, and so make botheffective.

Commemorative occasions,unveilings, commencements,dedications, eulogies, and all the train ofspecial public gatherings, offer rareopportunities for the display of tact andgood sense in handling occasion, theme,and audience. When to be dignified and

when colloquial, when to soar and whento ramble arm in arm with your hearers,when to flame and when to soothe, whento instruct and when to amuse—in aword, the whole matter ofAPPROPRIATENESS must constantlybe in mind lest you write your speech onwater.

Finally, remember the beatitude:Blessed is the man that maketh shortspeeches, for he shall be invited tospeak again.

SELECTIONS FOR STUDYLAST DAYS OF THECONFEDERACY(Extract)The Rapidan suggests another scene

to which allusion has often beenmade since the war, but which, asillustrative also of the spirit of botharmies, I may be permitted to recallin this connection. In the mellowtwilight of an April day the twoarmies were holding their dressparades on the oppositehills bordering the river. At theclose of the parade a magnificentbrass band of the Union armyplayed with great spirit thepatriotic airs, "Hail Columbia," and"Yankee Doodle." Whereupon theFederal troops responded with apatriotic shout. The same band thenplayed the soul-stirring strains of"Dixie," to which a mighty

response came from ten thousandSouthern troops. A few momentslater, when the stars had come outas witnesses and when all naturewas in harmony, there came fromthe same band the old melody,"Home, Sweet Home." As itsfamiliar and pathetic notes rolledover the water and thrilled throughthe spirits of the soldiers, the hillsreverberated with a thunderingresponse from the united voices ofboth armies. What was there in thisold, old music, to so touch thechords of sympathy, so thrill thespirits and cause the frames ofbrave men to tremble withemotion? It was the thought of

home. To thousands, doubtless, itwas the thought of that EternalHome to which the next battle mightbe the gateway. To thousands ofothers it was the thought of theirdear earthly homes, where lovedones at that twilight hour werebowing round the family altar, andasking God's care over the absentsoldier boy.

—General J.B. Gordon, C.s.a.WELCOME TO KOSSUTH(Extract)Let me ask you to imagine that thecontest, in which the United Statesasserted their independence ofGreat Britain, had beenunsuccessful; that our armies,

through treason or a league oftyrants against us, had been brokenand scattered; that the great menwho led them, and who swayed ourcouncils—our Washington, ourFranklin, and the venerablepresident of the American Congress—had been driven forth as exiles.If there had existed at that day, inany part of the civilized world, apowerful Republic, withinstitutions resting on the samefoundations of liberty which ourown countrymen sought toestablish, would there have been inthat Republic any hospitality toocordial, any sympathy too deep, anyzeal for their glorious but

unfortunate cause, too fervent or tooactive to be shown toward theseillustrious fugitives? Gentlemen,the case I have supposed is beforeyou. The Washingtons, theFranklins, the Hancocks ofHungary, driven out by a far worsetyranny than was ever endured here,are wanderers in foreign lands.Some of them have sought a refugein our country—one sits with thiscompany our guest to-night—andwe must measure the duty we owethem by the same standard whichwe would have had history apply,if our ancestors had met with a fatelike theirs.

—William Cullen Bryant.

THE INFLUENCE OFUNIVERSITIES(Extract)When the excitement of partywarfare presses dangerously nearour national safeguards, I wouldhave the intelligent conservatism ofour universities and colleges warnthe contestants in impressive tonesagainst the perils of a breachimpossible to repair.When popular discontent andpassion are stimulated by the arts ofdesigning partisans to a pitchperilously near to class hatred orsectional anger, I would have ouruniversities and colleges sound thealarm in the name of American

brotherhood and fraternaldependence.When the attempt is made to deludethe people into the belief that theirsuffrages can change the operationof national laws, I would have ouruniversities and colleges proclaimthat those laws are inexorable andfar removed from political control.When selfish interest seeks undueprivate benefits throughgovernmental aid, and publicplaces are claimed as rewards ofparty service, I would have ouruniversities and colleges persuadethe people to a relinquishment ofthe demand for party spoils andexhort them to a disinterested and

patriotic love of their government,whose unperverted operationsecures to every citizen his justshare of the safety and prosperity itholds in store for all.I would have the influence of theseinstitutions on the side of religionand morality. I would have thosethey send out among the people notashamed to acknowledge God, andto proclaim His interposition in theaffairs of men, enjoining suchobedience to His laws as makesmanifest the path of nationalperpetuity and prosperity

—Grover Cleveland, delivered atthe Princeton Sesqui-Centennial,

1896.

EULOGY OF GARFIELD(Extract)Great in life, he was surpassinglygreat in death. For no cause, in thevery frenzy of wantonness andwickedness, by the red hand ofmurder, he was thrust from the fulltide of this world's interest, from itshopes, its aspirations, its victories,into the visible presence of death—and he did not quail. Not alone forthe one short moment in which,stunned and dazed, he could give uplife, hardly aware of itsrelinquishment, but through days ofdeadly languor, through weeks ofagony, that was not less agonybecause silently borne, with clear

sight and calm courage, he lookedinto his open grave. What blightand ruin met his anguished eyes,whose lips may tell—whatbrilliant, broken plans, whatbaffled, high ambitions, whatsundering of strong, warm,manhood's friendships, what bitterrending of sweet household ties!Behind him a proud, expectantnation, a great host of sustainingfriends, a cherished and happymother, wearing the full rich honorsof her early toil and tears; the wifeof his youth, whose whole life layin his; the little boys not yetemerged from childhood's day offrolic; the fair young daughter; the

sturdy sons just springing intoclosest companionship, claimingevery day and every day rewardinga father's love and care; and in hisheart the eager, rejoicing power tomeet all demand. Before him,desolation and great darkness! Andhis soul was not shaken. Hiscountrymen were thrilled withinstant, profound and universalsympathy. Masterful in his mortalweakness, he became the centre ofa nation's love, enshrined in theprayers of a world. But all the loveand all the sympathy could notshare with him his suffering. Hetrod the wine press alone. Withunfaltering front he faced death.

With unfailing tenderness he tookleave of life. Above the demoniachiss of the assassin's bullet heheard the voice of God. Withsimple resignation he bowed to theDivine decree.—James G. Blaine, delivered at the

memorial service held by the U.S.Senate and House of

Representatives.EULOGY OF LEE(Extract)At the bottom of all true heroism isunselfishness. Its crowningexpression is sacrifice. The worldis suspicious of vaunted heroes. Butwhen the true hero has come, andwe know that here he is in verity,

ah! how the hearts of men leap forthto greet him! how worshipfully wewelcome God's noblest work—thestrong, honest, fearless, uprightman. In Robert Lee was such a herovouchsafed to us and to mankind,and whether we behold himdeclining command of the federalarmy to fight the battles and sharethe miseries of his own people;proclaiming on the heights in frontof Gettysburg that the fault of thedisaster was his own; leadingcharges in the crisis of combat;walking under the yoke of conquestwithout a murmur of complaint; orrefusing fortune to come here andtrain the youth of his country in the

paths of duty,—he is ever the samemeek, grand, self-sacrificing spirit.Here he exhibited qualities not lessworthy and heroic than thosedisplayed on the broad and opentheater of conflict, when the eyes ofnations watched his every action.Here in the calm repose of civiland domestic duties, and in thetrying routine of incessant tasks, helived a life as high as when, day byday, he marshalled and led his thinand wasting lines, and slept bynight upon the field that was to bedrenched again in blood upon themorrow. And now he has vanishedfrom us forever. And is this all thatis left of him—this handful of dust

beneath the marble stone? No! theages answer as they rise from thegulfs of time, where lie the wrecksof kingdoms and estates, holding upin their hands as their only trophies,the names of those who havewrought for man in the love andfear of God, and in love—unfearingfor their fellow-men. No! thepresent answers, bending by histomb. No! the future answers as thebreath of the morning fans itsradiant brow, and its soul drinks insweet inspirations from the lovelylife of Lee. No! methinks the veryheavens echo, as melt into theirdepths the words of reverent lovethat voice the hearts of men to the

tingling stars.Come we then to-day in loyal loveto sanctify our memories, to purifyour hopes, to make strong all goodintent by communion with the spiritof him who, being dead yetspeaketh. Come, child, in thyspotless innocence; come, woman,in thy purity; come, youth, in thyprime; come, manhood, in thystrength; come, age, in thy ripewisdom; come, citizen; come,soldier; let us strew the roses andlilies of June around his tomb, forhe, like them, exhaled in his lifeNature's beneficence, and the gravehas consecrated that life and givenit to us all; let us crown his tomb

with the oak, the emblem of hisstrength, and with the laurel theemblem of his glory, and let theseguns, whose voices he knew of old,awake the echoes of the mountains,that nature herself may join in hissolemn requiem. Come, for here herests, andOn this green bank, by this fairstream,We set to-day a votive stone,That memory may his deedsredeem?When, like our sires, our sons aregone.

—John Warwick Daniel, on theunveiling of Lee's statue at

Washington and Lee University,

Lexington, Virginia, 1883.

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES 1. Why should humor find a place in

after-dinner speaking?2. Briefly give your impressions of

any notable after-dinner address that youhave heard.

3. Briefly outline an imaginaryoccasion of any sort and give threesubjects appropriate for addresses.

4. Deliver one such address, not toexceed ten minutes in length.

5. What proportion of emotional ideasdo you find in the extracts given in thischapter?

6. Humor was used in some of theforegoing addresses—in which otherswould it have been inappropriate?

7. Prepare and deliver an after-dinnerspeech suited to one of the followingoccasions, and be sure to use humor:

A lodge banquet.A political party dinner.A church men's club dinner.A civic association banquet.A banquet in honor of a celebrity.A woman's club annual dinner.A business men's associationdinner.A manufacturers' club dinner.An alumni banquet.An old home week barbecue.

31ChapterMAKINGCONVERSATIONEFFECTIVE

In conversation avoid the extremesof forwardness and reserve.

—Cato.Conversation is the laboratory andworkshop of the student.

—Emerson, Essays: Circles.

The father of W.E. Gladstoneconsidered conversation to be both anart and an accomplishment. Around thedinner table in his home some topic oflocal or national interest, or somedebated question, was constantly beingdiscussed. In this way a friendly rivalryfor supremacy in conversation aroseamong the family, and an incidentobserved in the street, an idea gleanedfrom a book, a deduction from personalexperience, was carefully stored asmaterial for the family exchange. Thushis early years of practise in elegantconversation prepared the youngerGladstone for his career as a leader andspeaker.

There is a sense in which the abilityto converse effectively is efficientpublic speaking, for our conversation isoften heard by many, and occasionallydecisions of great moment hinge uponthe tone and quality of what we say inprivate.

Indeed, conversation in the aggregateprobably wields more power than pressand platform combined. Socrates taughthis great truths, not from publicrostrums, but in personal converse. Menmade pilgrimages to Goethe's libraryand Coleridge's home to be charmed andinstructed by their speech, and theculture of many nations wasimmeasurably influenced by the thoughtsthat streamed out from those rich well-

springs.Most of the world-moving speeches

are made in the course of conversation.Conferences of diplomats, business-getting arguments, decisions by boardsof directors, considerations of corporatepolicy, all of which influence thepolitical, mercantile and economic mapsof the world, are usually the results ofcareful though informal conversation,and the man whose opinions weigh insuch crises is he who has first carefullypondered the words of both antagonistand protagonist.

However important it may be to attainself-control in light social converse, orabout the family table, it is undeniablyvital to have oneself perfectly in hand

while taking part in a momentousconference. Then the hints that we havegiven on poise, alertness, precision ofword, clearness of statement, and forceof utterance, with respect to publicspeech, are equally applicable toconversation.

The form of nervous egotism—for itis both—that suddenly ends in flustersjust when the vital words need to beuttered, is the sign of coming defeat, fora conversation is often a contest. If youfeel this tendency embarrassing you, besure to listen to Holmes's advice:

And when you stick onconversational burs,Don't strew your pathway with

those dreadful urs.

Here bring your will into action, foryour trouble is a wandering attention.You must force your mind to persistalong the chosen line of conversationand resolutely refuse to be divertedb y any subject or happening that mayunexpectedly pop up to distract you. Tofail here is to lose effectiveness utterly.

Concentration is the keynote ofconversational charm and efficiency.The haphazard habit of expression thatuses bird-shot when a bullet is neededinsures missing the game, for diplomacyof all sorts rests upon the preciseapplication of precise words,particularly—if one may paraphrase

Tallyrand—in those crises whenlanguage is no longer used to concealthought.

We may frequently gain new light onold subjects by looking at word-derivations. Conversation signifies inthe original a turn-about exchange ofideas, yet most people seem to regard itas a monologue. Bronson Alcott used tosay that many could argue, but fewconverse. The first thing to remember inconversation, then, is that listening—respectful, sympathetic, alert listening—is not only due to our fellow converserbut due to ourselves. Many a reply losesits point because the speaker is so muchinterested in what he is about to say thatit is really no reply at all but merely an

irritating and humiliating irrelevancy.Self-expression is exhilarating. This

explains the eternal impulse to decoratetotem poles and paint pictures, writepoetry and expound philosophy. One ofthe chief delights of conversation is theopportunity it affords for self-expression. A good conversationalistwho monopolizes all the conversation,will be voted a bore because he deniesothers the enjoyment of self-expression,while a mediocre talker who listensinterestedly may be considered a goodconversationalist because he permits hiscompanions to please themselvesthrough self-expression. They arepraised who please: they please wholisten well.

The first step in remedying habits ofconfusion in manner, awkward bearing,vagueness in thought, and lack ofprecision in utterance, is to recognizeyour faults. If you are serenelyunconscious of them, no one—least ofall yourself—can help you. But oncediagnose your own weaknesses, and youcan overcome them by doing four things:

1. WILL to overcome them, and keepon willing.

2. Hold yourself in hand by assuringyourself that you know precisely whatyou ought to say. If you cannot do that,be quiet until you are clear on this vitalpoint.

3. Having thus assured yourself, castout the fear of those who listen to you—

they are only human and will respectyour words if you really have somethingto say and say it briefly, simply, andclearly.

4. Have the courage to study theEnglish language until you are master ofat least its simpler forms.

Conversational HintsChoose some subject that will prove

of general interest to the whole group.Do not explain the mechanism of a gasengine at an afternoon tea or the cultureof hollyhocks at a stag party.

It is not considered good taste for aman to bare his arm in public and showscars or deformities. It is equally badform for him to flaunt his own woes, orthe deformity of some one else's

character. The public demands plays andstories that end happily. All the world isseeking happiness. They cannot long beinterested in your ills and troubles.George Cohan made himself amillionaire before he was thirty bywriting cheerful plays. One of his rulesis generally applicable to conversation:"Always leave them laughing when yousay good bye."

Dynamite the "I" out of yourconversation. Not one man in ninehundred and seven can talk about himselfwithout being a bore. The man who canperform that feat can achieve marvelswithout talking about himself, so theeternal "I" is not permissible even in histalk.

If you habitually build yourconversation around your own interestsit may prove very tiresome to yourlistener. He may be thinking of bird dogsor dry fly fishing while you arediscussing the fourth dimension, or themerits of a cucumber lotion. Thecharming conversationalist is preparedto talk in terms of his listener's interest.If his listener spends his spare timeinvestigating Guernsey cattle or agitatingsocial reforms, the discriminatingconversationalist shapes his remarksaccordingly. Richard Washburn Childsays he knows a man of mediocre abilitywho can charm men much abler thanhimself when he discusses electriclighting. This same man probably would

bore, and be bored, if he were forced toconverse about music or Madagascar.

Avoid platitudes and hackneyedphrases. If you meet a friend fromKeokuk on State Street or on Pike'sPeak, it is not necessary to observe:"How small this world is after all!" Thisobservation was doubtless made prior tothe formation of Pike's Peak. "This oldworld is getting better every day.""Fanner's wives do not have to work ashard as formerly." "It is not so much thehigh cost of living as the cost of highliving." Such observations as theseexcite about the same degree ofadmiration as is drawn out by theappearance of a 1903-model touring car.If you have nothing fresh or interesting

you can always remain silent. Howwould you like to read a newspaper thatflashed out in bold headlines "NiceWeather We Are Having," or daily gavecolumns to the same old material youhad been reading week after week?

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Give a short speech describing the

conversational bore.2. In a few words give your idea of a

charming converser.3. What qualities of the orator

should not be used in conversation.4. Give a short humorous delineation

of the conversational "oracle."5. Give an account of your first day at

observing conversation around you.6. Give an account of one day's effort

to improve your own conversation.7. Give a list of subjects you heard

discussed during any recent period youmay select.

8. What is meant by "elastic touch" inconversation?

9. Make a list of "Bromides," asGellett Burgess calls those threadbareexpressions which "bore us toextinction"—itself a Bromide.

10. What causes a phrase to becomehackneyed?

11. Define the words, (a) trite; (b)solecism; (c) colloquialism; (d) slang;(e) vulgarism; (f) neologism.

12. What constitutes pretentious talk?

APPENDIX A - FIFTYQUESTIONS FOR DEBATE

1. Has Labor Unionism justified itsexistence?

2. Should all church printing bebrought out under the Union Label?

3. Is the Open Shop a benefit to thecommunity?

4. Should arbitration of industrialdisputes be made compulsory?

5. Is Profit-Sharing a solution of thewage problem?

6. Is a minimum wage law desirable?7. Should the eight-hour day be made

universal in America?8. Should the state compensate those

who sustain irreparable business lossbecause of the enactment of lawsprohibiting the manufacture and sale ofintoxicating drinks?

9. Should public utilities be owned bythe municipality?

10. Should marginal trading in stocksbe prohibited?

11. Should the national governmentestablish a compulsory system of old-age insurance by taxing the incomes ofthose to be benefited?

12. Would the triumph of socialisticprinciples result in deadening personalambition?

13. Is the Presidential System a betterform of government for the United Statesthan the Parliamental System?

14. Should our legislation be shapedtoward the gradual abandonment of theprotective tariff?

15. Should the government of thelarger cities be vested solely in acommission of not more than nine menelected by the voters at large?

16. Should national banks bepermitted to issue, subject to tax andgovernment supervision, notes based ontheir general assets?

17. Should woman be given the balloton the present basis of suffrage for men?

18. Should the present basis ofsuffrage be restricted?

19. Is the hope of permanent world-peace a delusion?

20. Should the United States send a

diplomatic representative to theVatican?

21. Should the Powers of the worldsubstitute an international police fornational standing armies?

22. Should the United States maintainthe Monroe Doctrine?

23. Should the Recall of Judges beadopted?

24. Should the Initiative andReferendum be adopted as a nationalprinciple?

25. Is it desirable that the nationalgovernment should own all railroadsoperating in interstate territory?

26. Is it desirable that the nationalgovernment should own interstatetelegraph and telephone systems?

27. Is the national prohibition of theliquor traffic an economic necessity?

28. Should the United States army andnavy be greatly strengthened?

29. Should the same standards ofaltruism obtain in the relations of nationsas in those of individuals?

30. Should our government be morehighly centralized?

31. Should the United States continueits policy of opposing the combination ofrailroads?

32. In case of personal injury to aworkman arising out of his employment,should his employer be liable foradequate compensation and be forbiddento set up as a defence a plea ofcontributory negligence on the part of the

workman, or the negligence of a fellowworkman?

33. Should all corporations doing aninterstate business be required to takeout a Federal license?

34. Should the amount of property thatcan be transferred by inheritance belimited by law?

35. Should equal compensation forequal labor, between women and men,universally prevail?

36. Does equal suffrage tend to lessenthe interest of woman in her home?

37. Should the United States takeadvantage of the commercial andindustrial weakness of foreign nations,brought about by the war, by trying towrest from them their markets in Central

and South America?38. Should teachers of small children

in the public schools be selected fromamong mothers?

39. Should football be restricted tocolleges, for the sake of physical safety?

40. Should college students whoreceive compensation for playingsummer baseball be debarred fromamateur standing?

41. Should daily school-hours andschool vacations both be shortened?

42. Should home-study for pupils ingrade schools be abolished and longerschool-hours substituted?

43. Should the honor system inexaminations be adopted in public high-schools?

44. Should all colleges adopt the self-government system for its students?

45. Should colleges be classified bynational law and supervision, anduniform entrance and graduationrequirements maintained by each collegein a particular class?

46. Should ministers be required tospend a term of years in some trade,business, or profession, beforebecoming pastors?

47. Is the Y.M.C.A. losing its spiritualpower?

48. Is the church losing its hold onthinking people?

49. Are the people of the UnitedStates more devoted to religion thanever?

50. Does the reading of magazinescontribute to intellectual shallowness?

APPENDIX B - THIRTYTHEMES FOR SPEECHES

With Source References for Material.1. Kinship, a Foundation Stone of

Civilization. "The State," WoodrowWilson.

2. Initiative and Referendum. "ThePopular Initiative and Referendum,"O.M. Barnes.

3. Reciprocity with Canada. Articlei n Independent, 53: 2874; articlein North American Review, 178: 205.

4. Is Mankind Progressing? Book ofsame title, M.M. Ballou.

5. Moses the PeerlessLeader. Lecture by John Lord, in

"Beacon Lights of History." NOTE:This set of books contains a vast storeof material for speeches.

6. The Spoils System. Sermon by theRev. Dr. Henry van Dyke, reported int he New York Tribune , February 25,1895.

7. The Negro in Business. Part III,Annual Report of the Secretary ofInternal Affairs, Pennsylvania, 1912.

8. Immigration andDegradation. "Americans or Aliens?"Howard B. Grose.

9. What is the Theatre Doing forAmerica? "The Drama Today," CharltonAndrews.

10. Superstition. "Curiosities ofPopular Custom," William S. Walsh.

11. The Problem of Old Age. "OldAge Deferred," Arnold Lorand.

12. Who is the Tramp? Articlein Century, 28: 41.

13. Two Men Inside. "Dr. Jekyll andMr. Hyde," R.L. Stevenson.

14. The Overthrow of Poverty. "ThePanacea for Poverty," Madison Peters.

15. Morals and Manners. "AChristian's Habits," Robert E. Speer.

16. Jew and Christian. "Jesus theJew," Harold Weinstock.

17. Education and the MovingPicture. Article by J. Berg Esenwein in"The Theatre of Science," Robert Grau.

18. Books as Food. "Books andReading," R.C. Gage andAlfred Harcourt.

19. What is a Novel? "The Techniqueof the Novel," Charles F. Home.

20. Modern Fiction and ModernLife. Article in Lippincott's, October,1907.

21. Our Problem in Mexico. "TheReal Mexico," Hamilton Fyfe.

22. The Joy of Receiving. Articlei n Woman's Home Companion ,December, 1914.

23. Physical Training vs. CollegeAthletics. Article in Literary Digest,November 28, 1914.

24. Cheer Up. "The Science ofHappiness," Jean Finot.

25. The Square Peg in the RoundHole. "The Job, the Man, and the Boss,"Katherine Blackford and Arthur

Newcomb.26. The Decay of Acting. Article

in Current Opinion, November, 1914.27. The Young Man and the

Church. "A Young man's Religion," N.McGee Waters.

28. Inheriting Success. Articlein Current Opinion, November, 1914.

29. The Indian in Oklahoma. Articlein Literary Digest, November 28, 1914.

30. Hate and the Nation. Articlein Literary Digest, November 14, 1914.

APPENDIX C -SUGGESTIVE SUBJECTS

FOR SPEECHES

With Occasional Hints on Treatment1. Movies and Morals.2. The Truth About Lying.The essence of truth-telling and lying.

Lies that are not so considered. Thesubtleties of distinctions required.Examples of implied and acted lies.

3. Benefits That Follow Disasters.Benefits that have arisen out of floods,

fires, earthquakes, wars, etc.4. Haste for Leisure.How the speed mania is born of a

vain desire to enjoy a leisure that never

comes or, on the contrary, how theseeming haste of the world has givenmen shorter hours off labor and moretime for rest, study, and pleasure.

5. St. Paul's Message to New York.Truths from the Epistles pertinent to

the great cities of today.6. Education and Crime.7. Loss is the Mother of Gain.How many men have been content

until, losing all, they exerted their bestefforts to regain success, and succeededmore largely than before.

8. Egoism vs. Egotism.9. Blunders of Young Fogyism.10. The Waste of Middle-Men in

Charity Systems.The cost of collecting funds for, and

administering help to, the needy. Theweakness of organized philanthropy ascompared with the giving that givesitself.

11. The Economy of OrganizedCharity.

The other side of the picture.12. Freedom of the Press.The true forces that hurtfully control

too many newspapers are not those ofarbitrary governments but the corruptinginfluences of moneyed and politicalinterests, fear of the liquor power, andthe desire to please sensation-lovingreaders.

13. Helen Keller: Optimist.14. Back to the Farm.A study of the reasons underlying the

movement.15. It Was Ever Thus.In ridicule of the pessimist who is

never surprised at seeing failure.16. The Vocational High School.Value of direct training compared

with the policy of layingbroader foundations for later building.How the two theories work outin practise. Each plan can be especiallyapplied in cases that seem to needspecial treatment.

17. All Kinds of Turning Done Here.A humorous, yet serious, discussion

of the flopping, wind-mill character.18. The Egoistic Altruist.Herbert Spencer's theory as discussed

in "The Data of Ethics."

19. How the City Menaces the Nation.Economic perils in massed

population. Show also the otherside. Signs of the problem's beingsolved.

20. The Robust Note in ModernPoetry.

A comparison of the work ofGalsworthy, Masefield and Kiplingwith that of some earlier poets.

21. The Ideals of Socialism.22. The Future of the Small City.How men are coming to see the

economic advantages ofsmaller municipalities.

23. Censorship for the Theatre.Its relation to morals and art. Its

difficulties and its benefits.

24. For Such a Time as This.Mordecai's expression and its

application to opportunities inmodern woman's life.

25. Is the Press Venal?26. Safety First.27. Menes and Extremes.28. Rubicons and Pontoons.How great men not only made

momentous decisions but createdmeans to carry them out. A speech full ofhistorical examples.

29. Economy a Revenue.30. The Patriotism of Protest Against

Popular Idols.31. Savonarola, The Divine Outcast.32. The True Politician.Revert to the original meaning of the

word. Build the speech around one manas the chief example.

33. Colonels and Shells.Leadership and "cannon fodder"—a

protest against war in its effect on thecommon people.

34. Why is a Militant?A dispassionate examination of the

claims of the British militant suffragette.35. Art and Morals.The difference between the nude and

the naked in art.36. Can my Country be Wrong?False patriotism and true, with

examples of popularly-hated patriots.37. Government by Party.An analysis of our present political

system and the movement toward reform.

38. The Effects of Fiction on History.39. The Effects of History on Fiction.40. The Influence of War on

Literature.41. Chinese Gordon.A eulogy.42. Taxes and Higher Education.Should all men be compelled to

contribute to the support of universitiesand professional schools?

43. Prize Cattle vs. Prize Babies.Is Eugenics a science? And is it

practicable?44. Benevolent Autocracy.Is a strongly paternal government

better for the masses than a much largerfreedom for the individual?

45. Second-Hand Opinions.

The tendency to swallow reviewsinstead of forming one's own views.

46. Parentage or Power?A study of which form of aristocracy

must eventually prevail, that of blood orthat of talent.

47. The Blessing of Discontent.Based on many examples of what has

been accomplished by those who havenot "let well-enough alone."

48. "Corrupt and Contented."A study of the relation of the apathetic

voter to vicious government.49. The Moloch of Child-Labor.50. Every Man Has a Right to Work.51. Charity that Fosters Pauperism.52. "Not in Our Stars but in

Ourselves."

Destiny vs. choice.53. Environment vs. Heredity.54. The Bravery of Doubt.Doubt not mere unbelief. True

grounds for doubt. What doubt hasled to. Examples. The weakness of meredoubt. The attitude of the wholesomedoubter versus that of the wholesaledoubter.

55. The Spirit of Monticello.A message from the life of Thomas

Jefferson.56. Narrowness in Specialism.The dangers of specializing without

first possessing broad knowledge. Theeye too close to one object. Balance is avital prerequisite for specialization.

57. Responsibility of Labor Unions to

the Law.58. The Future of Southern Literature.What conditions in the history,

temperament and environment ofour Southern people indicate a brightliterary future.

59. Woman the Hope of Idealism inAmerica.

60. The Value of Debating Clubs.61. An Army of Thirty Millions.In praise of the Sunday-school.62. The Baby.How the ever-new baby holds

mankind in unselfish courses andsaves us all from going lastingly wrong.

63. Lo, the Poor Capitalist.His trials and problems.64. Honey and Sting.

A lesson from the bee.65. Ungrateful Republics.Examples from history.66. "Every Man has his Price."Horace Walpole's cynical remark is

not true now, nor was it true even in hisown corrupt era. Of what sort are themen who cannot

be bought? Examples.67. The Scholar in Diplomacy.Examples in American life.68. Locks and Keys.There is a key for every lock. No

difficulty so great, no truth so obscure,no problem so involved, but that there isa key to fit the lock. The search for theright key, the struggle to adjust it,the vigilance to retain it—these are some

of the problems of success.69. Right Makes Might.70. Rooming With a Ghost.Influence of the woman graduate of

fifty years before on the college girl wholives in the room once occupied by thedistinguished "old grad."

71. No Fact is a Single Fact.The importance of weighing facts

relatively.72. Is Classical Education Dead to

Rise No More?73. Invective Against Nietsche's

Philosophy.74. Why Have we Bosses?A fair-minded examination of the uses

and abuses of the political "leader."75. A Plea for Settlement Work.

76. Credulity vs. Faith.77. What is Humor?78. Use and Abuse of the Cartoon.79. The Pulpit in Politics.80. Are Colleges Growing too Large?81. The Doom of Absolutism.82. Shall Woman Help Keep House

for Town, City, State, and Nation?83. The Educational Test for Suffrage.84. The Property Test for Suffrage.85. The Menace of the Plutocrat.86. The Cost of High Living.87. The Cost of Conveniences.88. Waste in American Life.89. The Effect of the Photoplay on the

"Legitimate" Theatre.90. Room for the Kicker.100. The Need for Trained

Diplomats.101. The Shadow of the Iron

Chancellor.102. The Tyranny of the Crowd.103. Is Our Trial by Jury

Satisfactory?104. The High Cost of Securing

Justice.105. The Need for Speedier Court

Trials.106. Triumphs of the American

Engineer.107. Goethals and Gorgas.108. Public Education Makes Service

to the Public a Duty.109. Man Owes his Life to the

Common Good.

APPENDIX D

NEWELL DWIGHT HILLISBRAVE LITTLE BELGIUM

Delivered in Plymouth Church,Brooklyn, N.Y., October 18, 1914. Usedby permission.

Long ago Plato made a distinctionbetween the occasions of war and thecauses of war. The occasions of war lieupon the surface, and are known andread of all men, while the causes of warare embedded in racial antagonisms, inpolitical and economic controversies.Narrative historians portray theoccasions of war; philosophichistorians, the secret and hidden causes.Thus the spark of fire that falls is the

occasion of an explosion, but the causeof the havoc is the relation betweencharcoal, niter and saltpeter. Theoccasion of the Civil War was the firingupon Fort Sumter. The cause was thecollision between the ideals of the Unionpresented by Daniel Webster and thesecession taught by Calhoun. Theoccasion of the American Revolutionwas the Stamp Tax; the cause was theconviction on the part of our forefathersthat men who had freedom in worshipcarried also the capacity for self-government. The occasion of the FrenchRevolution was the purchase of adiamond necklace for Queen MarieAntoinette at a time when the treasurywas exhausted; the cause of the

revolution was feudalism. Nototherwise, the occasion of the greatconflict that is now shaking our earthwas the assassination of an Austrian boyand girl, but the cause is embedded inracial antagonisms and economiccompetition.

As for Russia, the cause of the warwas her desire to obtain the Bosphorus—and an open seaport, which is theprize offered for her attack uponGermany. As for Austria, the cause ofthe war is her fear of the growing powerof the Balkan States, and the progressiveslicing away of her territory. As forFrance, the cause of the war is theinstinct of self-preservation, that resistsan invading host. As for Germany, the

cause is her deep-seated conviction thatevery country has a moral right to themouth of its greatest river; unable tocompete with England, by roundaboutsea routes and a Kiel Canal, she wantsto use the route that nature digged for herthrough the mouth of the Rhine. As forEngland, the motherland is fighting torecover her sense of security. During theNapoleonic wars the second WilliamPitt explained the quadrupling of thetaxes, the increase of the navy, and thesending of an English army againstFrance, by the statement that justificationof this proposed war is the"Preservation of England's sense ofsecurity." Ten years ago England lost hersense of security. Today she is not

seeking to preserve, but to recover, thelost sense of security. She proposes todo this by destroying Germany'sironclads, demobilizing her army,wiping out her forts, and the partition ofher provinces. The occasions of the warvary, with the color of the paper—"white" and "gray" and "blue"—butthe causes of this war are embedded inracial antagonisms and economic andpolitical differences.

Why Little Belgium Has the Centerof the Stage

Tonight our study concerns littleBelgium, her people, and their part inthis conflict. Be the reasons what theymay, this little land stands in the centerof the stage and holds the limelight.

Once more David, armed with a sling,has gone up against ten Goliaths. It is anamazing spectacle, this, one of thesmallest of the States, battling with thelargest of the giants! Belgium has astanding army of 42,000 men, andGermany, with three reserves, perhaps7,000,000 or 8,000,000. Without waitingfor any assistance, this little Belgiumband went up against 2,000,000. It is asif a honey bee had decided to attack aneagle come to loot its honeycomb. It isas if an antelope had turned against alion. Belgium has but 11,000 squaremiles of land, less than the States ofMassachusetts, Rhode Island andConnecticut. Her population is7,500,000, less than the single State of

New York. You could put twenty-twoBelgiums in our single State of Texas.Much of her soil is thin; her handicapsare heavy, but the industry of her peoplehas turned the whole land into one vastflower and vegetable garden. The soil ofMinnesota and the Dakotas is new soil,and yet our farmers there average butfifteen bushels of wheat to the acre.Belgium's soil has been used forcenturies, but it averages thirty-sevenbushels of wheat to the acre. If we growtwenty-four bushels of barley on an acreof ground, Belgium grows fifty; sheproduces 300 bushels of potatoes, wherethe Maine farmer harvests 90 bushels.Belgium's average population per squaremile has risen to 645 people. If

Americans practised intensive farming;if the population of Texas were as denseas it is in Belgium—100,000,000 of theUnited States, Canada and CentralAmerica could all move to Texas, whileif our entire country was as denselypopulated as Belgium's, everybody inthe world could live comfortably withinthe limits of our country.

The Life of the PeopleAnd yet, little Belgium has no gold or

silver mines, and all the treasures ofcopper and zinc and lead and anthraciteand oil have been denied her. The goldis in the heart of her people. No otherland holds a race more prudent,industrious and thrifty! It is a land whereeverybody works. In the winter when the

sun does not rise until half past seven,the Belgian cottages have lights in theirwindows at five, and the people areready for an eleven-hour day. As a ruleall children work after 12 years of age.The exquisite pointed lace that has madeBelgium famous, is wrought by womenwho fulfill the tasks of the householdfulfilled by American women, and thenbegins their task upon the exquisite lacesthat have sent their name and famethroughout the world. Their wages arelow, their work hard, but their life is sopeaceful and prosperous that fewBelgians ever emigrate to foreigncountries. Of late they have made theireducation compulsory, their schoolsfree. It is doubtful whether any other

country has made a greater success oftheir system of transportation. You willpay 50 cents to journey some twenty oddmiles out to Roslyn, on our Long Islandrailroad, but in Belgium a commuterjourneys twenty miles in to the factoryand back again every night and makesthe six double daily journeys at an entirecost of 37-1/2 cents per week, less thanthe amount that you pay for the journeyone way for a like distance in thiscountry. Out of this has come Belgium'sprosperity. She has the money to buygoods from other countries, and she hasthe property to export to foreign lands.Last year the United States, with itshundred millions of people, importedless than $2,000,000,000, and exported

$2,500,000,000. If our people had beenas prosperous per capita as Belgium, wewould have purchased from othercountries $12,000,000,000 worth ofgoods and exported $10,000,000,000.

So largely have we been dependentupon Belgium that many of the enginesused in digging the Panama Canal camefrom the Cockerill works that producetwo thousands of these engines everyyear in Liege. It is often said that theBelgians have the best courts inexistence. The Supreme Court of LittleBelgium has but one Justice. Withoutwaiting for an appeal, just as soon as adecision has been reached by a lowerCourt, while the matters are still fresh inmind and all the witnesses and facts

readily obtainable, this Supreme Justicereviews all the objections raised oneither side and without a motion fromanyone passes on the decision of theinferior court. On the other hand, thelower courts are open to an immediatesettlement of disputes between the wageearners, and newsboys and fishermenare almost daily seen going to the judgefor a decision regarding a dispute overfive or ten cents. When the judge hascross-questioned both sides, without thepresence of attorneys, or the necessity ofserving a process, or raising a dollarand a quarter, as here, the poorest of thepoor have their wrongs righted. It is saidthat not one decision out of one hundredis appealed, thus calling for the

existence of an attorney.To all other institutions organized in

the interest of the wage earner has beenadded the national savings bank system,that makes loans to men of small means,that enables the farmer and the workingman to buy a little garden and build ahouse, while at the same time insuringthe working man against accident andsickness. Belgium is a poor man'scountry, it has been said, becauseinstitutions have been administered inthe interest of the men of small affairs.

The Great Belgium Plain in HistoryBut the institutions of Belgium and the

industrial prosperity of her people aloneare not equal to the explanation of herunique heroism. Long ago, in his

Commentaries, Julius Cæsar said thatGaul was inhabited by three tribes, theBelgæ, the Aquitani, the Celts, "of whomthe Belgæ were the bravest." Historywill show that Belgians have courage astheir native right, for only the bravecould have survived. The southeasternpart of Belgium is a series of rockplains, and if these plains have been hergood fortune in times of peace, they havefurnished the battlefields of WesternEurope for two thousand years. NorthernFrance and Western Germany are rough,jagged and wooded, but the Belgianplains were ideal battlefields. For thisreason the generals of Germany and ofFrance have usually met and struggledfor the mastery on these wide Belgian

plains. On one of these grounds JuliusCæsar won the first battle that isrecorded. Then came King Clovis andthe French, with their campaigns; towardthese plains also the Saracens werehurrying when assaulted by CharlesMartel. On the Belgian plains the Dutchburghers and the Spanish armies, led byBloody Alva, fought out their battle.Hither, too, came Napoleon, and thegreat mound of Waterloo is themonument to the Duke of Wellington'svictory. It was to the Belgian plains,also, that the German general, lastAugust, rushed his troops. Every collegeand every city searches for some levelspot of land where the contest betweenopposing teams may be held, and for

more than two thousand years theBelgian plain has been the scene of thegreat battles between the warring nationsof Western Europe.

Now, out of all these collisions therehas come a hardy race, inured to peril,rich in fortitude, loyalty, patience, thrift,self-reliance and persevering faith. Forfive hundred years the Belgian childrenand youth have been brought up upon thedeeds of noble renown, achieved bytheir ancestors. If Julius Cæsar werehere today he would wear Belgium'sbravery like a bright sword, girded tohis thigh. And when this brave littlepeople, with a standing army of forty-two thousand men, single-handed defiedtwo millions of Germans, it tells us that

Ajax has come back once more to defythe god of lightnings.

A Thrilling Chapter from Belgium'sHistory

Perhaps one or two chapters torn fromthe pages of Belgium history will enableus to understand her present-dayheroism, just as one golden boughplucked from the forest will explain therichness of the autumn. You rememberthat Venice was once the financial centerof the world. Then when the bankers lostconfidence in the navy of Venice they puttheir jewels and gold into saddle bagsand moved the financial center of theworld to Nuremburg, because its wallswere seven feet thick and twenty feethigh. Later, about 1500 A.D., the

discovery of the New World turned allthe peoples into races of sea-going folk,and the English and Dutch captains viedwith the sailors of Spain and Portugal.No captains were more prosperous thanthe mariners of Antwerp. In 1568 therewere 500 marble mansions in this cityon the Meuse. Belgium became a casketfilled with jewels. Then it was thatSpain turned covetous eyes northward.Sated with his pleasures, broken byindulgence and passion, the EmperorCharles the Fifth resigned his gold andthrone to his son, King Philip. Findinghis coffers depleted, Philip sent theDuke of Alva, with 10,000 Spanishsoldiers, out on a looting expedition.Their approach filled Antwerp with

consternation, for her merchants werebusy with commerce and not with war.The sack of Antwerp by the Spaniardsmakes up a revolting page in history.Within three days 8,000 men, womenand children were massacred, and theSpanish soldiers, drunk with wine andblood, hacked, drowned and burned likefiends that they were. The Belgianhistorian tells us that 500 marbleresidences were reduced to blackenedruins. One incident will make the eventstand out. When the Spaniardsapproached the city a wealthy burgherhastened the day of his son's marriage.During the ceremony the soldiers brokedown the gate of the city and crossed thethreshold of the rich man's house. When

they had stripped the guests of theirpurses and gems, unsatisfied, they killedthe bridegroom, slew the men, andcarried the bride out into the night. Thenext morning a young woman, crazed andhalf clad, was found in the street,searching among the dead bodies. At lastshe found a youth, whose head she liftedupon her knees, over which she croonedher songs, as a young mother soothes herbabe. A Spanish officer passing by,humiliated by the spectacle, ordered asoldier to use his dagger and put the girlout of her misery.

The Horrors of the InquisitionHaving looted Antwerp, the treasure

chest of Belgium, the Spaniards set upthe Inquisition as an organized means of

securing property. It is a strange fact thatthe Spaniard has excelled in cruelty asother nations have excelled in art orscience or invention. Spain's cruelty tothe Moors and the rich Jews forms oneof the blackest chapters in history.Inquisitors became fiends. Moors werestarved, tortured, burned, flung in wells,Jewish bankers had their tongues thrustthrough little iron rings; then the end ofthe tongue was seared that it mightswell, and the banker was led by a stringin the ring through the streets of the city.The women and the children were put onrafts that were pushed out into theMediterranean Sea. When the swollencorpses drifted ashore, the plague brokeout, and when that black plague spread

over Spain it seemed like the justice ofoutraged nature. The expulsion of theMoors was one of the deadliest blowsever struck at science, commerce, artand literature. The historian tracks Spainacross the continents by a trail of blood.Wherever Spain's hand has fallen it hasparalyzed. From the days of Cortez,wherever her captains have given apledge, the tongue that spake has beenmildewed with lies and treachery. Thewildest beasts are not in the jungle; manis the lion that rends, man is the leopardthat tears, man's hate is the serpent thatpoisons, and the Spaniard enteredBelgium to turn a garden into awilderness. Within one year, 1568,Antwerp, that began with 125,000

people, ended it with 50,000. Manymultitudes were put to death by thesword and stake, but many, manythousands fled to England, to begin anewtheir lives as manufacturers andmariners; and for years Belgium was onequaking peril, an inferno, whosetorturers were Spaniards. The visitor inAntwerp is still shown the rack uponwhich they stretched the merchants thatthey might yield up their hidden gold.The Painted Lady may be seen. Openingher arms, she embraces the victim. TheSpaniard, with his spear, forced themerchant into the deadly embrace. Asthe iron arms concealed in velvet foldedtogether, one spike passed through eacheye, another through the mouth, another

through the heart. The Painted Lady'slips were poisoned, so that a kiss wasfatal. The dungeon whose sides wereforced together by screws, so that eachday the victim saw his cell growing lessand less, and knew that soon he wouldbe crushed to death, was anotherinstrument of torture. Literally thousandsof innocent men and women were burnedalive in the market place.

There is no more piteous tragedy inhistory than the story of the decline andruin of this superbly prosperous, literaryand artistic country, and yet out of theashes came new courage. Burned,broken, the Belgians and the Dutch werenot beaten. Pushed at last into Holland,where they united their fortunes with the

Dutch, they cut the dykes of Holland, andlet in the ocean, and clinging to the dykeswith their finger tips, fought their wayback to the land; but no sooner had thelast of the Spaniards gone than out oftheir rags and poverty they founded auniversity as a monument to theprovidence of God in delivering themout of the hands of their enemies. For,the Sixteenth Century, in the form of abrave knight, wears little Belgium andHolland like a red rose upon his heart.

The Death of EgmontBut some of you will say that the

Belgian people must have been rebelsand guilty of some excess, and that hadthey remained quiescent, and notfomented treason, that no such fate could

have overtaken them at the hands ofSpain. Very well. I will take a youthwho, at the beginning, believed inCharles the Fifth, a man who was as trueto his ideals as the needle to the pole.One day the "Bloody Council" decreedthe death of Egmont and Horn.Immediately afterward, the Duke of Alvasent an invitation to Egmont to be theguest of honor at a banquet in his ownhouse. A servant from the palace thatnight delivered to the Count a slip ofpaper, containing a warning to take thefleetest horse and flee the city, and fromthat moment not to eat or sleep withoutpistols at his hand. To all this Egmontresponded that no monster ever livedwho could, with an invitation of

hospitality, trick a patriot. Like a braveman, the Count went to the Duke'spalace. He found the guests assembled,but when he had handed his hat andcloak to the servant, Alva gave a sign,and from behind the curtains cameSpanish musqueteers, who demanded hissword. For instead of a banquet hall, theCount was taken to a cellar, fitted up asa dungeon. Already Egmont had all butdied for his country. He had used hisships, his trade, his gold, for righting thepeople's wrongs. He was a man of alarge family—a wife and elevenchildren—and people loved him as toidolatry. But Alva was inexorable. Hehad made up his mind that the merchantsand burghers had still much hidden gold,

and if he killed their bravest and best,terror would fall upon all alike, and thatthe gold he needed would beforthcoming. That all the people mightwitness the scene, he took his prisonersto Brussels and decided to behead themin the public square. In the eveningEgmont received the notice that his headwould be chopped off the next day. Ascaffold was erected in the publicsquare. That evening he wrote a letterthat is a marvel of restraint.

"Sire—I have learned this eveningthe sentence which your majestyhas been pleased to pronounceupon me. Although I have never hada thought, and believe myself never

to have done a deed, which wouldtend to the prejudice of yourservice, or to the detriment of truereligion, nevertheless I takepatience to bear that which it haspleased the good God to permit.Therefore, I pray your majesty tohave compassion on my poor wife,my children and my servants,having regard to my past service. Inwhich hope I now commend myselfto the mercy of God. FromBrussels, ready to die, this 5th ofJune, 1568."Lamoral D' Egmont."

Thus died a man who did as muchprobably for Holland as John Eliot for

England, or Lafayette for France, orSamuel Adams for this young republic.

The Woe of BelgiumAnd now out of all this glorious past

comes the woe of Belgium. Desolationhas come like the whirlwind, anddestruction like a tornado. But ninetydays ago and Belgium was a hive ofindustry, and in the fields were heard theharvest songs. Suddenly, Germany struckBelgium. The whole world has but onevoice, "Belgium has innocent hands."She was led like a lamb to the slaughter.When the lover of Germany is asked toexplain Germany's breaking of hersolemn treaty upon the neutrality ofBelgium, the German stands dumb andspeechless. Merchants honor their

written obligations. True citizensconsider their word as good as theirbond; Germany gave treaty, and in thepresence of God and the civilizedworld, entered into a solemn covenantwith Belgium. To the end of time, theGerman must expect this taunt, "asworthless as a German treaty." Scarcelyless black the two or three knownexamples of cruelty wrought uponnonresisting Belgians. In Brooklyn livesa Belgian woman. She planned to returnhome in late July to visit a father whohad suffered paralysis, an aged motherand a sister who nursed both. When theGermans decided to burn that village inEastern Belgium, they did not wish toburn alive this old and helpless man, so

they bayonetted to death the old man andwoman, and the daughter that nursedthem.

Let us judge not, that we be notjudged. This is the one example ofatrocity that you and I might be ablepersonally to prove. But every loyalGerman in the country can make answer:"These soldiers were drunk with wineand blood. Such an atrocitymisrepresents Germany and her soldiers.The breaking of Germany's treaty withBelgium represents the dishonor of amilitary ring, and not the perfidy of68,000,000 of people. We ask thatjudgment be postponed until all the factsare in." But, meanwhile, the man wholoves his fellows, at midnight in his

dreams walks across the fields of brokenBelgium. All through the night air therecomes the sob of Rachel, weeping forher children, because they are not. Inmoods of bitterness, of doubt anddespair the heart cries out, "How coulda just God permit such cruelty uponinnocent Belgium?" No man knows."Clouds and darkness are round aboutGod's throne." The spirit of evil causedthis war, but the Spirit of God may bringgood out of it, just as the summer canrepair the ravages of winter. Meanwhilethe heart bleeds for Belgium. ForBrussels, the third most beautiful city inEurope! For Louvain, once rich with itslibraries, cathedrals, statues, paintings,missals, manuscripts—now a ruin. Alas!

for the ruined harvests and the smokingvillages! Alas, for the Cathedral that is aheap, and the library that is a ruin.Where the angel of happiness was therestalk Famine and Death. Gone, the Landof Grotius! Perished the paintings ofRubens! Ruined is Louvain. Where thewheat waved, now the hillsides arebillowy with graves. But let us believethat God reigns. Perchance Belgium isslain like the Saviour, that militarismmay die like Satan. Without shedding ofinnocent blood there is no remission ofsins through tyranny and greed. There isno wine without the crushing of thegrapes from the tree of life. SoonLiberty, God's dear child, will standwithin the scene and comfort the

desolate. Falling upon the great world'saltar stairs, in this hour when wisdom isignorance, and the strongest manclutches at dust and straw, let us believewith faith victorious over tears, thatsome time God will gather broken-hearted little Belgium into His arms andcomfort her as a Father comforteth hiswell-beloved child.

HENRY WATTERSONTHE NEW AMERICANISM

(Abridged)Eight years ago tonight, there stood

where I am standing now a youngGeorgian, who, not without reason,recognized the "significance" of hispresence here, and, in words whoseeloquence I cannot hope to recall,

appealed from the New South to NewEngland for a united country.

He is gone now. But, short as his lifewas, its heaven-born mission wasfulfilled; the dream of his childhood wasrealized; for he had been appointed byGod to carry a message of peace onearth, good will to men, and, this done,he vanished from the sight of mortaleyes, even as the dove from the ark.

Grady told us, and told us truly, of thattypical American who, in Dr. Talmage'smind's eye, was coming, but who, inAbraham Lincoln's actuality, had alreadycome. In some recent studies into thecareer of that man, I have encounteredmany startling confirmations of thisjudgment; and from that rugged trunk,

drawing its sustenance from gnarledroots, interlocked with Cavalier spraysand Puritan branches deep beneath thesoil, shall spring, is springing, a shapelytree—symmetric in all its parts—underwhose sheltering boughs this nation shallhave the new birth of freedom Lincolnpromised it, and mankind the refugewhich was sought by the forefatherswhen they fled from oppression. ThankGod, the ax, the gibbet, and the stakehave had their day. They have gone, letus hope, to keep company with the lostarts. It has been demonstrated that greatwrongs may be redressed and greatreforms be achieved without theshedding of one drop of human blood;that vengeance does not purify, but

brutalizes; and that tolerance, which inprivate transactions is reckoned a virtue,becomes in public affairs a dogma of themost far-seeing statesmanship.

So I appeal from the men in silkenhose who danced to music made byslaves—and called it freedom—from themen in bell-crowned hats, wholed Hester Prynne to her shame—andcalled it religion—to that Americanismwhich reaches forth its arms to smitewrong with reason and truth, secure inthe power of both. I appeal from thepatriarchs of New England to the poetsof New England; from Endicott toLowell; from Winthrop to Longfellow;from Norton to Holmes; and I appeal inthe name and by the rights of that

common citizenship—of that commonorigin—back of both the Puritan and theCavalier—to which all of us owe ourbeing. Let the dead past, consecrated bythe blood of its martyrs, not by itssavage hatreds—darkened alike bykingcraft and priestcraft—let the deadpast bury its dead. Let the present andthe future ring with the song of thesingers. Blessed be the lessons theyteach, the laws they make. Blessed bethe eye to see, the light to reveal.Blessed be Tolerance, sitting ever on theright hand of God to guide the way withloving word, as blessed be all thatbrings us nearer the goal of true religion,true Republicanism, and true patriotism,distrust of watchwords and labels,

shams and heroes, belief in our countryand ourselves. It was not Cotton Mather,but John Greenleaf Whittier, who cried:—

"Dear God and Father of us all,Forgive our faith in cruel lies,Forgive the blindness that denies. "Cast down our idols—overturnOur bloody altars—make us seeThyself in Thy humanity!"

JOHN MORLEYFOUNDER'S DAY ADDRESS

(Abridged)Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh, Pa.,

November 3, 1904.

What is so hard as a just estimate ofthe events of our own time? It is onlynow, a century and a half later, that wereally perceive that a writer hassomething to say for himself when hecalls Wolfe's exploit at Quebec theturning point in modern history. And to-day it is hard to imagine any rationalstandard that would not make theAmerican Revolution—an insurrectionof thirteen little colonies, with apopulation of 3,000,000 scattered in adistant wilderness among savages—amightier event in many of its aspects thanthe volcanic convulsion in France.Again, the upbuilding of your great Weston this continent is reckoned by some themost important world movement of the

last hundred years. But is it moreimportant than the amazing, imposingand perhaps disquieting apparition ofJapan? One authority insists that whenRussia descended into the Far East andpushed her frontier on the Pacific to theforty-third degree of latitude that wasone of the most far-reaching facts ofmodern history, tho it almost escaped theeyes of Europe—all her perceptions thenmonopolized by affairs in the Levant.Who can say? Many courses of the sunwere needed before men could take thefull historic measures of Luther, Calvin,Knox; the measure of Loyola, theCouncil of Trent, and all the counter-reformation. The center of gravity isforever shifting, the political axis of the

world perpetually changing. But we arenow far enough off to discern howstupendous a thing was done when, aftertwo cycles of bitter war, one foreign, theother civil and intestine, Pitt andWashington, within a span of less than ascore of years, planted the foundationsof the American Republic.

What Forbes's stockade at Fort Pitthas grown to be you know better than I.The huge triumphs of Pittsburg inmaterial production—iron, steel, coke,glass, and all the rest of it—can only betold in colossal figures that are almost ashard to realize in our minds as thefigures of astronomical distance orgeologic time. It is not quite clear thatall the founders of the Commonwealth

would have surveyed the wonderfulscene with the same exultation as theirdescendants. Some of them would havedenied that these great centers ofindustrial democracy either in the OldWorld or in the New always stand forprogress. Jefferson said, "I view greatcities as pestilential to the morals, thehealth, and the liberties of man. Iconsider the class of artificers," he wenton, "as the panders of vice, and theinstrument by which the liberties of acountry are generally overthrown." InEngland they reckon 70 per cent. of ourpopulation as dwellers in towns. Withyou, I read that only 25 per cent. of thepopulation live in groups so large as4,000 persons. If Jefferson was right our

outlook would be dark. Let us hope thathe was wrong, and in fact toward theend of his time qualified his early view.Franklin, at any rate, would, I feel sure,have reveled in it all.

That great man—a name in theforefront among the practicalintelligences of human history—oncetold a friend that when he dwelt upon therapid progress that mankind was makingin politics, morals, and the arts of living,and when he considered that each oneimprovement always begets another, hefelt assured that the future progress ofthe race was likely to be quicker than ithad ever been. He was never wearied offoretelling inventions yet to come, andhe wished he could revisit the earth at

the end of a century to see how mankindwas getting on. With all my heart I sharehis wish. Of all the men who have builtup great States, I do believe there is notone whose alacrity of sound sense andsingle-eyed beneficence of aim could bemore safely trusted than Franklin todraw light from the clouds and piercethe economic and political confusions ofour time. We can imagine the amazementand complacency of that shrewdbenignant mind if he could watch all thegiant marvels of your mills and furnaces,and all the apparatus devised by thewondrous inventive faculties of man; ifhe could have foreseen that hisexperiments with the kite in his garden atPhiladelphia, his tubes, his Leyden jars

would end in the electric appliances ofto-day—the largest electric plant in allthe world on the site of Fort Duquesne;if he could have heard of 5,000,000,000of passengers carried in the UnitedStates by electric motor power in a year;if he could have realized all the rest ofthe magician's tale of our time.

Still more would he have beenastounded and elated could he haveforeseen, beyond all advances inmaterial production, the unbrokenstrength of that political structure whichhe had so grand a share in rearing. Intothis very region where we are thisafternoon, swept wave after wave ofimmigration; English from Virginiaflowed over the border, bringing English

traits, literature, habits of mind; Scots,or Scots-Irish, originally from Ulster,flowed in from Central Pennsylvania;Catholics from Southern Ireland; newhosts from Southern and East CentralEurope. This is not the Fourth of July.But people of every school would agreethat it is no exuberance of rhetoric, it isonly sober truth to say that thepersevering absorption andincorporation of all this ceaselesstorrent of heterogenous elements into oneunited, stable, industrious, and pacificState is an achievement that neither theRoman Empire nor the Roman Church,neither Byzantine Empire nor Russian,not Charles the Great nor Charles theFifth nor Napoleon ever rivaled or

approached.We are usually apt to excuse the

slower rate of liberal progress in ourOld World by contrasting the obstructivebarriers of prejudice, survival,solecism, anachronism, convention,institution, all so obstinately rooted,even when the branches seem bare andbroken, in an old world, with the openand disengaged ground of the new. Yetin fact your difficulties were at least asformidable as those of the oldercivilizations into whose fruitful heritageyou have entered. Unique was thenecessity of this gigantic task ofincorporation, the assimilation of peopleof divers faiths and race. A seconddifficulty was more formidable still—

how to erect and work a powerful andwealthy State on such a system as tocombine the centralized concert of afederal system with local independence,and to unite collective energy with theencouragement of individual freedom.

This last difficulty that you have sosuccessfully up to now surmounted, atthe present hour confronts the motherc o untr y and deeply perplexes herstatesmen. Liberty and union have beencalled the twin ideas of America. So,too, they are the twin ideals of allresponsible men in Great Britain; althoresponsible men differ amongthemselves as to the safest path on whichto travel toward the common goal, andtho the dividing ocean, in other ways so

much our friend, interposes, for our caseof an island State, or rather for a groupof island States, obstacles from which acontinental State like yours is happilyaltogether free.

Nobody believes that no difficultiesremain. Some of them are obvious. Butthe common-sense, the mixture ofpatience and determination that hasconquered risks and mischiefs in thepast, may be trusted with the future.

Strange and devious are the paths ofhistory. Broad and shining channels getmysteriously silted up. How many a timewhat seemed a glorious high roadproves no more than a mule track ormere cul-de-sac. Think of Canning'sflashing boast, when he insisted on the

recognition of the Spanish republics inSouth America—that he had called anew world into existence to redress thebalance of the old. This is one of thesayings—of which sort many anothermight be found—that make the fortune ofa rhetorician, yet stand ill the wear andtear of time and circumstance. The newworld that Canning called into existencehas so far turned out a scene of singulardisenchantment.

Tho not without glimpses on occasionof that heroism and courage and evenwisdom that are the attributes of manalmost at the worst, the tale has been toomuch a tale of anarchy and disaster, stillleaving a host of perplexities forstatesmen both in America and Europe.

It has left also to students of aphilosophic turn of mind one of the mostinteresting of all the problems to befound in the whole field of social,ecclesiastical, religious, and racialmovement. Why is it that we do not findin the south as we find in the north of thishemisphere a powerful federation—agreat Spanish-American peoplestretching from the Rio Grande to CapeHorn? To answer that question would beto shed a flood of light upon many deephistoric forces in the Old World, ofwhich, after all, these movements of theNew are but a prolongation and moremanifest extension.

What more imposing phenomenondoes history present to us than the rise of

Spanish power to the pinnacle ofgreatness and glory in the sixteenthcentury? The Mohammedans, aftercenturies of fierce and stubborn war,driven back; the whole peninsulabrought under a single rule with a singlecreed; enormous acquisitions from theNetherlands of Naples, Sicily, theCanaries; France humbled, Englandmenaced, settlements made in Asia andNorthern Africa—Spain in Americabecome possessed of a vast continentand of more than one archipelago ofsplendid islands. Yet before a centurywas over the sovereign majesty of Spainunderwent a huge declension, theterritory under her sway was contracted,the fabulous wealth of the mines of the

New World had been wasted,agriculture and industry were ruined, hercommerce passed into the hands of herrivals.

Let me digress one further moment.We have a very sensible habit in theisland whence I come, when our countrymisses fire, to say as little as we can,and sink the thing in patriotic oblivion. Itis rather startling to recall that less thana century ago England twice sent amilitary force to seize what is nowArgentina. Pride of race and hostilecreed vehemently resisting, proved toomuch for us. The two expeditions endedin failure, and nothing remains for thehistorian of to-day but to wonder what adifference it might have made to the

temperate region of South America if thefortune of war had gone the other way, ifthe region of the Plata had becomeBritish, and a large British immigrationhad followed. Do not think me guilty ofthe heinous crime of forgetting theMonroe Doctrine. That momentousdeclaration was not made for a goodmany years after our Gen. Whitelockewas repulsed at Buenos Ayres, tho Mr.Sumner and other people have alwaysheld that it was Canning who really firststarted the Monroe Doctrine, when heinvited the United States to join himagainst European intervention in SouthAmerican affairs.

The day is at hand, we are told, whenfour-fifths of the human race will trace

their pedigree to English forefathers, asfour-fifths of the white people in theUnited States trace their pedigree to-day.By the end of this century, they say, suchnations as France and Germany,assuming that they stand apart from freshconsolidations, will only be able toclaim the same relative position in thepolitical world as Holland andSwitzerland. These musings of the moondo not take us far. The important thing,as we all know, is not the exact fractionof the human race that will speakEnglish. The important thing is that thosewho speak English, whether in old landsor new, shall strive in lofty, generousand never-ceasing emulation withpeoples of other tongues and other stock

for the political, social, and intellectualprimacy among mankind. In this noblestrife for the service of our race we neednever fear that claimants for the prizewill be too large a multitude.

As an able scholar of your own hassaid, Jefferson was here using the oldvernacular of English aspirations after afree, manly, and well-ordered politicallife—a vernacular rich in statelytradition and noble phrase, to be foundin a score of a thousand of champions inmany camps—in Buchanan, Milton,Hooker, Locke, Jeremy Taylor, RogerWilliams, and many another humbler butnot less strenuous pioneer and confessorof freedom. Ah, do not fail to count up,and count up often, what a different

world it would have been but for thatisland in the distant northern sea! Thesewere the tributary fountains, that, as timewent on, swelled into the broadconfluence of modern time. What wasnew in 1776 was the transformation ofthought into actual polity.

What is progress? It is best to be slowin the complex arts of politics in theirwidest sense, and not to hurry to define.If you want a platitude, there is nothingfor supplying it like a definition. Orshall we say that most definitions hangbetween platitude and paradox? Thereare said, tho I have never counted, to be10,000 definitions of religion. Theremust be about as many of poetry. Therecan hardly be fewer of liberty, or even

of happiness.I am not bold enough to try a

definition. I will not try to gauge how farthe advance of moral forces has keptpace with that extension of materialforces in the world of which thiscontinent, conspicuous before all others,bears such astounding evidence. This, ofcourse, is the question of questions,because as an illustrious English writer—to whom, by the way, I owe myfriendship with your founder many longyears ago—as Matthew Arnold said inAmerica here, it is moral ideas that atbottom decide the standing or falling ofstates and nations. Without opening thisvast discussion at large, many a sign ofprogress is beyond mistake. The practise

of associated action—one of the masterkeys of progress—is a new force in ahundred fields, and with immeasurablediversity of forms. There is lessacquiescence in triumphant wrong.Toleration in religion has been calledthe best fruit of the last four centuries,and in spite of a few bigoted survivals,even in our United Kingdom, and somesavage outbreaks of hatred, halfreligious, half racial, on the Continent ofEurope, this glorious gain of time maynow be taken as secured. Perhaps of allthe contributions of America to humancivilization this is greatest. The reign offorce is not yet over, and at intervals ithas its triumphant hours, but reason,justice, humanity fight with success their

long and steady battle for a wider sway.Of all the points of social advance, in

my country at least, during the lastgeneration none is more marked than thechange in the position of women, inrespect of rights of property, ofeducation, of access to new callings. Asfor the improvement of material well-being, and its diffusion among thosewhose labor is a prime factor in itscreation, we might grow sated with thejubilant monotony of its figures, if wedid not take good care to remember, inthe excellent words of the President ofHarvard, that those gains, like theprosperous working of your institutionsand the principles by which they aresustained, are in essence moral

contributions, "being principles ofreason, enterprise, courage, faith, andjustice, over passion, selfishness,inertness, timidity, and distrust." It is themoral impulses that matter. Where theyare safe, all is safe.

When this and the like is said, nobodysupposes that the last word has beenspoken as to the condition of the peopleeither in America or Europe.Republicanism is not itself a panacea foreconomic difficulties. Of self it canneither stifle nor appease the accents ofsocial discontent. So long as it has noroot in surveyed envy, this discontentitself is a token of progress.

What, cries the skeptic, what hasbecome of all the hopes of the time when

France stood upon the top of goldenhours? Do not let us fear the challenge.Much has come of them. And over theold hopes time has brought a stratum ofnew.

Liberalism is sometimes suspected ofbeing cold to these new hopes, and youmay often hear it said that Liberalism isalready superseded by Socialism. That achange is passing over party names inEurope is plain, but you may be sure thatno change in name will extinguish theseprinciples of society which are rooted inthe nature of things, and are accreditedby their success. Twice America hassaved liberalism in Great Britain. TheWar for Independence in the eighteenthcentury was the defeat of usurping

power no less in England than here. TheWar for Union in the nineteenth centurygave the decisive impulse to a criticalextension of suffrage, and an era ofpopular reform in the mother country.Any miscarriage of democracy herereacts against progress in Great Britain.

If you seek the real meaning of mostmodern disparagement of popular orparliamentary government, it is no morethan this, that no politics will suffice ofthemselves to make a nation's soul. Whatcould be more true? Who says it will?But we may depend upon it that the soulwill be best kept alive in a nation wherethere is the highest proportion of thosewho, in the phrase of an old worthy ofthe seventeenth century, think it a part of

a man's religion to see to it that hiscountry be well governed.

Democracy, they tell us, is afflictedby mediocrity and by sterility. But hasnot democracy in my country, as inyours, shown before now that it wellknows how to choose rulers neithermediocre nor sterile; men more than theequals in unselfishness, in rectitude, inclear sight, in force, of any absolutiststatesman, that ever in times past borethe scepter? If I live a few months, or itmay be even a few weeks longer, I hopeto have seen something of three elections—one in Canada, one in the UnitedKingdom, and the other here. With us, inrespect of leadership, and apart fromheight of social prestige, the personage

corresponding to the president is, as youknow, the prime minister. Our generalelection this time, owing to personalaccident of the passing hour, may notdetermine quite exactly who shall be theprime minister, but it will determine theparty from which the prime ministershall be taken. On normal occasions ourelection of a prime minister is as directand personal as yours, and in choosing amember of Parliament people werereally for a whole generation choosingwhether Disraeli or Gladstone orSalisbury should be head of thegovernment.

The one central difference betweenyour system and ours is that theAmerican president is in for a fixed

time, whereas the British prime ministerdepends upon the support of the Houseof Commons. If he loses that, his powermay not endure a twelvemonth; if on theother hand, he keeps it, he may holdoffice for a dozen years. There are notmany more interesting or importantquestions in political discussion than thequestion whether our cabinet governmentor your presidential system ofgovernment is the better. This is not theplace to argue it.

Between 1868 and now—a period ofthirty-six years—we have had eightministries. This would give an averagelife of four and a half years. Of theseeight governments five lasted over fiveyears. Broadly speaking, then, our

executive governments have lasted aboutthe length of your fixed term. As forministers swept away by a gust ofpassion, I can only recall the overthrowof Lord Palmerston in 1858 for beingthought too subservient to France. Formy own part, I have always thought thatby its free play, its comparative fluidity,its rapid flexibility of adaptation, ourcabinet system has most to say for itself.

Whether democracy will make forpeace, we all have yet to see. So fardemocracy has done little in Europe toprotect us against the turbid whirlpoolsof a military age. When the evils of rivalstates, antagonistic races, territorialclaims, and all the other formulas ofinternational conflict are felt to be

unbearable and the curse becomes toogreat to be any longer borne, a school ofteachers will perhaps arise to pick upagain the thread of the best writers andwisest rulers on the eve of therevolution. Movement in this region ofhuman things has not all beenprogressive. If we survey the Europeancourts from the end of the Seven Years'War down to the French Revolution, wenote the marked growth of a distinctlyinternational and pacific spirit. At no erain the world's history can we find somany European statesmen after peaceand the good government of which peaceis the best ally. That sentiment came toviolent end when Napoleon arose toscourge the world.

ROBERT TOOMBSON RESIGNING FROM THE

SENATE, 1861(Abridged)

The success of the Abolitionists andtheir allies, under the name of theRepublican party, has produced itslogical results already. They have forlong years been sowing dragons' teethand have finally got a crop of armedmen. The Union, sir, is dissolved. Thatis an accomplished fact in the path ofthis discussion that men may as wellheed. One of your confederates hasalready wisely, bravely, boldlyconfronted public danger, and she isonly ahead of many of her sistersbecause of her greater facility for speedy

action. The greater majority of thosesister States, under like circumstances,consider her cause as their cause; and Icharge you in their name to-day: "Touchnot Saguntum."[37] It is not only theircause, but it is a cause which receivesthe sympathy and will receive thesupport of tens and hundreds of honestpatriot men in the nonslaveholdingStates, who have hitherto maintainedconstitutional rights, and who respecttheir oaths, abide by compacts, and lovejustice.

And while this Congress, this Senate,and this House of Representatives aredebating the constitutionality and theexpediency of seceding from the Union,and while the perfidious authors of this

mischief are showering downdenunciations upon a large portion of thepatriotic men of this country, those bravemen are coolly and calmly voting whatyou call revolution—aye, sir, doingbetter than that: arming to defend it. Theyappealed to the Constitution, theyappealed to justice, they appealed tofraternity, until the Constitution, justice,and fraternity were no longer listened toin the legislative halls of their country,and then, sir, they prepared for thearbitrament of the sword; and now yousee the glittering bayonet, and you hearthe tramp of armed men from yourcapitol to the Rio Grande. It is a sightthat gladdens the eyes and cheers thehearts of other millions ready to second

them. Inasmuch, sir, as I have laboredearnestly, honestly, sincerely, with thesemen to avert this necessity so long as Ideemed it possible, and inasmuch as Iheartily approve their present conduct ofresistance, I deem it my duty to statetheir case to the Senate, to the country,and to the civilized world.

Senators, my countrymen havedemanded no new government; they havedemanded no new Constitution. Look totheir records at home and here from thebeginning of this national strife until itsconsummation in the disruption of theempire, and they have not demanded asingle thing except that you shall abideby the Constitution of the United States;that constitutional rights shall be

respected, and that justice shall be done.Sirs, they have stood by yourConstitution; they have stood by all itsrequirements, they have performed all itsduties unselfishly, uncalculatingly,disinterestedly, until a party sprang up inthis country which endangered theirsocial system—a party which theyarraign, and which they charge beforethe American people and all mankindwith having made proclamation ofoutlawry against four thousand millionsof their property in the Territories of theUnited States; with having put themunder the ban of the empire in all theStates in which their institutions existoutside the protection of federal laws;with having aided and abetted

insurrection from within and invasionfrom without with the view of subvertingthose institutions, and desolating theirhomes and their firesides. For thesecauses they have taken up arms.

I have stated that the discontentedStates of this Union have demandednothing but clear, distinct, unequivocal,well-acknowledged constitutional rights—rights affirmed by the highest judicialtribunals of their country; rights olderthan the Constitution; rights which areplanted upon the immutable principles ofnatural justice; rights which have beenaffirmed by the good and the wise of allcountries, and of all centuries. Wedemand no power to injure any man. Wedemand no right to injure our

confederate States. We demand no rightto interfere with their institutions, eitherby word or deed. We have no right todisturb their peace, their tranquillity,their security. We have demanded ofthem simply, solely—nothing else—togive us equality, security andtranquillity. Give us these, and peacerestores itself. Refuse them, and takewhat you can get.

What do the rebels demand? First,"that the people of the United Statesshall have an equal right to emigrate andsettle in the present or any futureacquired Territories, with whateverproperty they may possess (includingslaves), and be securely protected in itspeaceable enjoyment until such Territory

may be admitted as a State into theUnion, with or without slavery, as shemay determine, on an equality with allexisting States." That is our Territorialdemand. We have fought for thisTerritory when blood was its price. Wehave paid for it when gold was its price.We have not proposed to exclude you,tho you have contributed very little ofblood or money. I refer especially toNew England. We demand only to gointo those Territories upon terms ofequality with you, as equals in this greatConfederacy, to enjoy the commonproperty of the whole Union, andreceive the protection of the commongovernment, until the Territory iscapable of coming into the Union as a

sovereign State, when it may fix its owninstitutions to suit itself.

The second proposition is, "thatproperty in slaves shall be entitled to thesame protection from the government ofthe United States, in all of itsdepartments, everywhere, which theConstitution confers the power upon it toextend to any other property, providednothing herein contained shall beconstrued to limit or restrain the rightnow belonging to every State to prohibit,abolish, or establish and protect slaverywithin its limits." We demand of thecommon government to use its grantedpowers to protect our property as wellas yours. For this protection we pay asmuch as you do. This very property is

subject to taxation. It has been taxed byyou and sold by you for taxes.

The title to thousands and tens ofthousands of slaves is derived from theUnited States. We claim that thegovernment, while the Constitutionrecognizes our property for the purposesof taxation, shall give it the sameprotection that it gives yours.

Ought it not to be so? You say no.Every one of you upon the committeesaid no. Your senators say no. YourHouse of Representatives says no.Throughout the length and breadth ofyour conspiracy against the Constitutionthere is but one shout of no! Thisrecognition of this right is the price ofmy allegiance. Withhold it, and you do

not get my obedience. This is thephilosophy of the armed men who havesprung up in this country. Do you ask meto support a government that will tax myproperty: that will plunder me; that willdemand my blood, and will not protectme? I would rather see the population ofmy native State laid six feet beneath hersod than they should support for onehour such a government. Protection is theprice of obedience everywhere, in allcountries. It is the only thing that makesgovernment respectable. Deny it and youcan not have free subjects or citizens;you may have slaves.

We demand, in the next place, "thatpersons committing crimes against slaveproperty in one State, and fleeing to

another, shall be delivered up in thesame manner as persons committingcrimes against other property, and thatthe laws of the State from which suchpersons flee shall be the test ofcriminality." That is another one of thedemands of an extremist and a rebel.

But the nonslaveholding States,treacherous to their oaths and compacts,have steadily refused, if the criminalonly stole a negro and that negro was aslave, to deliver him up. It was refusedtwice on the requisition of my own Stateas long as twenty-two years ago. It wasrefused by Kent and by Fairfield,governors of Maine, and representing, Ibelieve, each of the then federal parties.We appealed then to fraternity, but we

submitted; and this constitutional righthas been practically a dead letter fromthat day to this. The next case came upbetween us and the State of New York,when the present senior senator [Mr.Seward] was the governor of that State;and he refused it. Why? He said it wasnot against the laws of New York tosteal a negro, and therefore he would notcomply with the demand. He made asimilar refusal to Virginia. Yet these areour confederates; these are our sisterStates! There is the bargain; there is thecompact. You have sworn to it. Boththese governors swore to it. The senatorfrom New York swore to it. Thegovernor of Ohio swore to it when hewas inaugurated. You can not bind them

by oaths. Yet they talk to us of treason;and I suppose they expect to whipfreemen into loving such brethren! Theywill have a good time in doing it!

It is natural we should want thisprovision of the Constitution carried out.The Constitution says slaves areproperty; the Supreme Court says so; theConstitution says so. The theft of slavesis a crime; they are a subject-matter offelonious asportation. By the text andletter of the Constitution you agreed togive them up. You have sworn to do it,and you have broken your oaths. Ofcourse, those who have done so look outfor pretexts. Nobody expected them todo otherwise. I do not think I ever saw aperjurer, however bald and naked, who

could not invent some pretext to palliatehis crime, or who could not, for fifteenshillings, hire an Old Bailey lawyer toinvent some for him. Yet thisrequirement of the Constitution isanother one of the extreme demands ofan extremist and a rebel.

The next stipulation is that fugitiveslaves shall be surrendered under theprovisions of the Fugitive Slave Act of1850, without being entitled either to awrit of habeas corpus, or trial by jury, orother similar obstructions of legislation,in the State to which he may flee. Here isthe Constitution:

"No person held to service or laborin one State, under the laws thereof,

escaping into another, shall, inconsequence of any law orregulation therein, be dischargedfrom such service or labor, butshall be delivered up on claim ofthe party to whom such service orlabor may be due."

This language is plain, and everybodyunderstood it the same way for the firstforty years of your government. In 1793,in Washington's time, an act was passedto carry out this provision. It wasadopted unanimously in the Senate of theUnited States, and nearly so in the Houseof Representatives. Nobody then hadinvented pretexts to show that theConstitution did not mean a negro slave.

It was clear; it was plain. Not only thefederal courts, but all the local courts inall the States, decided that this was aconstitutional obligation. How is it now?The North sought to evade it; followingthe instincts of their natural character,they commenced with the fraudulentfiction that fugitives were entitled tohabeas corpus, entitled to trial by jury inthe State to which they fled. Theypretended to believe that our fugitiveslaves were entitled to more rights thantheir white citizens; perhaps they wereright, they know one another better than Ido. You may charge a white man withtreason, or felony, or other crime, andyou do not require any trial by jurybefore he is given up; there is nothing to

determine but that he is legally chargedwith a crime and that he fled, and then heis to be delivered up upon demand.White people are delivered up every dayin this way; but not slaves. Slaves, blackpeople, you say, are entitled to trial byjury; and in this way schemes have beeninvented to defeat your plainconstitutional obligations.

Senators, the Constitution is acompact. It contains all our obligationsand the duties of the federal government.I am content and have ever been contentto sustain it. While I doubt its perfection,while I do not believe it was a goodcompact, and while I never saw the daythat I would have voted for it as aproposition de novo, yet I am bound to it

by oath and by that common prudencewhich would induce men to abide byestablished forms rather than to rush intounknown dangers. I have given to it, andintend to give to it, unfaltering supportand allegiance, but I choose to put thatallegiance on the true ground, not on thefalse idea that anybody's blood was shedfor it. I say that the Constitution is thewhole compact. All the obligations, allthe chains that fetter the limbs of mypeople, are nominated in the bond, andthey wisely excluded any conclusionagainst them, by declaring that "thepowers not granted by the Constitution tothe United States, or forbidden by it tothe States, belonged to the Statesrespectively or the people."

Now I will try it by that standard; Iwill subject it to that test. The law ofnature, the law of justice, would say—and it is so expounded by the publicists—that equal rights in the commonproperty shall be enjoyed. Even in amonarchy the king can not prevent thesubjects from enjoying equality in thedisposition of the public property. Evenin a despotic government this principleis recognized. It was the blood and themoney of the whole people (says thelearned Grotius, and say all thepublicists) which acquired the publicproperty, and therefore it is not theproperty of the sovereign. This right ofequality being, then, according to justiceand natural equity, a right belonging to

all States, when did we give it up? Yousay Congress has a right to pass rulesand regulations concerning the Territoryand other property of the United States.Very well. Does that exclude thosewhose blood and money paid for it?Does "dispose of" mean to rob therightful owners? You must show a bettertitle than that, or a better sword than wehave.

What, then, will you take? You willtake nothing but your own judgment; thatis, you will not only judge foryourselves, not only discard the court,discard our construction, discard thepractise of the government, but you willdrive us out, simply because you will it.Come and do it! You have sapped the

foundations of society; you havedestroyed almost all hope of peace. In acompact where there is no commonarbiter, where the parties finally decidefor themselves, the sword alone at lastbecomes the real, if not theconstitutional, arbiter. Your party saysthat you will not take the decision of theSupreme Court. You said so at Chicago;you said so in committee; every man ofyou in both Houses says so. What areyou going to do? You say we shallsubmit to your construction. We shall doit, if you can make us; but not otherwise,or in any other manner. That is settled.You may call it secession, or you maycall it revolution; but there is a big factstanding before you, ready to oppose you

—that fact is, freemen with arms in theirhands.

THEODORE ROOSEVELTINAUGURAL ADDRESS

(1905)MY FELLOW CITIZENS:—No

people on earth have more cause to bethankful than ours, and this is saidreverently, in no spirit of boastfulness inour own strength, but with gratitude tothe Giver of Good, Who has blessed uswith the conditions which have enabledus to achieve so large a measure ofwell-being and happiness.

To us as a people it has been grantedto lay the foundations of our national lifein a new continent. We are the heirs ofthe ages, and yet we have had to pay few

of the penalties which in old countriesare exacted by the dead hand of a bygonecivilization. We have not been obligedto fight for our existence against anyalien race; and yet our life has called forthe vigor and effort without which themanlier and hardier virtues wither away.

Under such conditions it would be ourown fault if we failed, and the successwhich we have had in the past, thesuccess which we confidently believethe future will bring, should cause in usno feeling of vainglory, but rather a deepand abiding realization of all that lifehas offered us; a full acknowledgment ofthe responsibility which is ours; and afixed determination to show that under afree government a mighty people can

thrive best, alike as regard the things ofthe body and the things of the soul.

Much has been given to us, and muchwill rightfully be expected from us. Wehave duties to others and duties toourselves—and we can shirk neither.We have become a great nation, forcedby the fact of its greatness into relationto the other nations of the earth, and wemust behave as beseems a people withsuch responsibilities.

Toward all other nations, large andsmall, our attitude must be one of cordialand sincere friendship. We must shownot only in our words but in our deedsthat we are earnestly desirous ofsecuring their good will by actingtoward them in a spirit of just and

generous recognition of all their rights.But justice and generosity in a nation,

as in an individual, count most whenshown not by the weak but by the strong.While ever careful to refrain fromwronging others, we must be no lessinsistent that we are not wrongedourselves. We wish peace; but we wishthe peace of justice, the peace ofrighteousness. We wish it because wethink it is right, and not because we areafraid. No weak nation that acts rightlyand justly should ever have cause tofear, and no strong power should ever beable to single us out as a subject forinsolent aggression.

Our relations with the other powers ofthe world are important; but still more

important are our relations amongourselves. Such growth in wealth, inpopulation, and in power, as a nation hasseen during a century and a quarter of itsnational life, is inevitably accompaniedby a like growth in the problems whichare ever before every nation that rises togreatness. Power invariably means bothresponsibility and danger. Ourforefathers faced certain perils whichwe have outgrown. We now face otherperils the very existence of which it wasimpossible that they should foresee.

Modern life is both complex andintense, and the tremendous changeswrought by the extraordinary industrialdevelopment of the half century are feltin every fiber of our social and political

being. Never before have men tried sovast and formidable an experiment asthat of administering the affairs of acontinent under the forms of ademocratic republic. The conditionswhich have told for our marvelousmaterial well-being, which havedeveloped to a very high degree ourenergy, self-reliance, and individualinitiative, also have brought the care andanxiety inseparable from theaccumulation of great wealth inindustrial centers.

Upon the success of our experimentmuch depends—not only as regards ourown welfare, but as regards the welfareof mankind. If we fail, the cause of freeself-government throughout the world

will rock to its foundations, andtherefore our responsibility is heavy, toourselves, to the world as it is to-day,and to the generations yet unborn.

There is no good reason why weshould fear the future, but there is everyreason why we should face it seriously,neither hiding from ourselves the gravityof the problems before us, nor fearing toapproach these problems with theunbending, unflinching purpose to solvethem aright.

Yet after all, tho the problems arenew, tho the tasks set before us differfrom the tasks set before our fathers,who founded and preserved thisRepublic, the spirit in which these tasksmust be undertaken and these problems

faced, if our duty is to be well done,remains essentially unchanged. We knowthat self-government is difficult. Weknow that no people needs such hightraits of character as that people whichseeks to govern its affairs aright throughthe freely expressed will of the free menwho compose it.

But we have faith that we shall notprove false to memories of the men ofthe mighty past. They did their work;they left us the splendid heritage we nowenjoy. We in our turn have an assuredconfidence that we shall be able to leavethis heritage unwasted and enlarged toour children's children.

To do so, we must show, not merelyin great crises, but in the everyday

affairs of life, the qualities of practicalintelligence, of courage, of hardihood,and endurance, and, above all, thepower of devotion to a lofty ideal,which made great the men who foundedthis Republic in the days of Washington;which made great the men whopreserved this Republic in the days ofAbraham Lincoln.

ON AMERICANMOTHERHOOD[38]

(1905)In our modern industrial civilization

there are many and grave dangers tocounterbalance the splendors and thetriumphs. It is not a good thing to seecities grow at disproportionate speedrelatively to the country; for the small

land owners, the men who own theirlittle homes, and therefore to a verylarge extent the men who till farms, themen of the soil, have hitherto made thefoundation of lasting national life inevery State; and, if the foundationbecomes either too weak or too narrow,the superstructure, no matter howattractive, is in imminent danger offalling.

But far more important than thequestion of the occupation of our citizensis the question of how their family life isconducted. No matter what thatoccupation may be, as long as there is areal home and as long as those whomake up that home do their duty to oneanother, to their neighbors and to the

State, it is of minor consequencewhether the man's trade is plied in thecountry or in the city, whether it calls forthe work of the hands or for the work ofthe head.

No piled-up wealth, no splendor ofmaterial growth, no brilliance of artisticdevelopment, will permanently avail anypeople unless its home life is healthy,unless the average man possesseshonesty, courage, common sense, anddecency, unless he works hard and iswilling at need to fight hard; and unlessthe average woman is a good wife, agood mother, able and willing toperform the first and greatest duty ofwomanhood, able and willing to bear,and to bring up as they should be brought

up, healthy children, sound in body,mind, and character, and numerousenough so that the race shall increaseand not decrease.

There are certain old truths whichwill be true as long as this worldendures, and which no amount ofprogress can alter. One of these is thetruth that the primary duty of the husbandis to be the home-maker, thebreadwinner for his wife and children,and that the primary duty of the womanis to be the helpmate, the housewife, andmother. The woman should have ampleeducational advantages; but save inexceptional cases the man must be, andshe need not be, and generally ought notto be, trained for a lifelong career as the

family breadwinner; and, therefore,aftera certain point, the training of the twomust normally be different because theduties of the two are normally different.This does not mean inequality offunction, but it does mean that normallythere must be dissimilarity of function.On the whole, I think the duty of thewoman the more important, the moredifficult, and the more honorable of thetwo; on the whole I respect the womanwho does her duty even more than Irespect the man who does his.

No ordinary work done by a man iseither as hard or as responsible as thework of a woman who is bringing up afamily of small children; for upon hertime and strength demands are made not

only every hour of the day but oftenevery hour of the night. She may have toget up night after night to take care of asick child, and yet must by day continueto do all her household duties as well;and if the family means are scant shemust usually enjoy even her rareholidays taking her whole brood ofchildren with her. The birth pangs makeall men the debtors of all women. Aboveall our sympathy and regard are due tothe struggling wives among those whomAbraham Lincoln called the plainpeople, and whom he so loved andtrusted; for the lives of these women areoften led on the lonely heights of quiet,self-sacrificing heroism.

Just as the happiest and most

honorable and most useful task that canbe set any man is to earn enough for thesupport of his wife and family, for thebringing up and starting in life of hischildren, so the most important, the mosthonorable and desirable task which canbe set any woman is to be a good andwise mother in a home marked by self-respect and mutual forbearance, bywillingness to perform duty, and byrefusal to sink into self-indulgence oravoid that which entails effort and self-sacrifice. Of course there areexceptional men and exceptional womenwho can do and ought to do much morethan this, who can lead and ought to leadgreat careers of outside usefulness inaddition to—not as substitutes for—their

home work; but I am not speaking ofexceptions; I am speaking of the primaryduties, I am speaking of the averagecitizens, the average men and womenwho make up the nation.

Inasmuch as I am speaking to anassemblage of mothers, I shall havenothing whatever to say in praise of aneasy life. Yours is the work which isnever ended. No mother has an easytime, the most mothers have very hardtimes; and yet what true mother wouldbarter her experience of joy and sorrowin exchange for a life of cold selfishness,which insists upon perpetual amusementand the avoidance of care, and whichoften finds its fit dwelling place in someflat designed to furnish with the least

possible expenditure of effort themaximum of comfort and of luxury, butin which there is literally no place forchildren?

The woman who is a good wife, agood mother, is entitled to our respect asis no one else; but she is entitled to itonly because, and so long as, she isworthy of it. Effort and self-sacrifice arethe law of worthy life for the man as forthe woman; tho neither the effort nor theself-sacrifice may be the same for theone as for the other. I do not in the leastbelieve in the patient Griselda type ofwoman, in the woman who submits togross and long continued ill treatment,any more than I believe in a man whotamely submits to wrongful aggression.

No wrong-doing is so abhorrent aswrong-doing by a man toward the wifeand the children who should arouseevery tender feeling in his nature.Selfishness toward them, lack oftenderness toward them, lack ofconsideration for them, above all,brutality in any form toward them,should arouse the heartiest scorn andindignation in every upright soul.

I believe in the woman keeping herself-respect just as I believe in the mandoing so. I believe in her rights just asmuch as I believe in the man's, andindeed a little more; and I regardmarriage as a partnership, in which eachpartner is in honor bound to think of therights of the other as well as of his or

her own. But I think that the duties areeven more important than the rights; andin the long run I think that the reward isampler and greater for duty well done,than for the insistence upon individualrights, necessary tho this, too, must oftenbe. Your duty is hard, yourresponsibility great; but greatest of all isyour reward. I do not pity you in theleast. On the contrary, I feel respect andadmiration for you.

Into the woman's keeping iscommitted the destiny of the generationsto come after us. In bringing up yourchildren you mothers must remember thatwhile it is essential to be loving andtender it is no less essential to be wiseand firm. Foolishness and affection must

not be treated as interchangeable terms;and besides training your sons anddaughters in the softer and mildervirtues, you must seek to give them thosestern and hardy qualities which in afterlife they will surely need. Some childrenwill go wrong in spite of the besttraining; and some will go right evenwhen their surroundings are mostunfortunate; nevertheless an immenseamount depends upon the family training.If you mothers through weakness bringup your sons to be selfish and to thinkonly of themselves, you will beresponsible for much sadness among thewomen who are to be their wives in thefuture. If you let your daughters grow upidle, perhaps under the mistaken

impression that as you yourselves havehad to work hard they shall know onlyenjoyment, you are preparing them to beuseless to others and burdens tothemselves. Teach boys and girls alikethat they are not to look forward to livesspent in avoiding difficulties, but tolives spent in overcoming difficulties.Teach them that work, for themselvesand also for others, is not curse but ablessing; seek to make them happy, tomake them enjoy life, but seek also tomake them face life with the steadfastresolution to wrest success from laborand adversity, and to do their whole dutybefore God and to man. Surely she whocan thus train her sons and her daughtersis thrice fortunate among women.

There are many good people who aredenied the supreme blessing of children,and for these we have the respect andsympathy always due to those who, fromno fault of their own, are denied any ofthe other great blessings of life. But theman or woman who deliberatelyforegoes these blessings, whether fromviciousness, coldness, shallow-heartedness, self-indulgence, or merefailure to appreciate aright the differencebetween the all-important and theunimportant,—why, such a creaturemerits contempt as hearty as any visitedupon the soldier who runs away inbattle, or upon the man who refuses towork for the support of those dependentupon him, and who tho able-bodied is

yet content to eat in idleness the breadwhich others provide.

The existence of women of this typeforms one of the most unpleasant andunwholesome features of modern life. Ifany one is so dim of vision as to fail tosee what a thoroughly unlovely creaturesuch a woman is I wish they would readJudge Robert Grant's novel "UnleavenedBread," ponder seriously the characterof Selma, and think of the fate that wouldsurely overcome any nation whichdeveloped its average and typicalwoman along such lines. Unfortunately itwould be untrue to say that this typeexists only in American novels. That italso exists in American life is madeunpleasantly evident by the statistics as

to the dwindling families in somelocalities. It is made evident in equallysinister fashion by the census statisticsas to divorce, which are fairly appalling;for easy divorce is now as it ever hasbeen, a bane to any nation, a curse tosociety, a menace to the home, anincitement to married unhappiness and toimmorality, an evil thing for men and astill more hideous evil for women.These unpleasant tendencies in ourAmerican life are made evident byarticles such as those which I actuallyread not long ago in a certain paper,where a clergyman was quoted,seemingly with approval, as expressingthe general American attitude when hesaid that the ambition of any save a very

rich man should be to rear two childrenonly, so as to give his children anopportunity "to taste a few of the goodthings of life."

This man, whose profession andcalling should have made him a moralteacher, actually set before others theideal, not of training children to do theirduty, not of sending them forth with stouthearts and ready minds to win triumphsfor themselves and their country, not ofallowing them the opportunity, andgiving them the privilege of making theirown place in the world, but, forsooth, ofkeeping the number of children solimited that they might "taste a few goodthings!" The way to give a child a fairchance in life is not to bring it up in

luxury, but to see thatit has the kind oftraining that will give it strength ofcharacter. Even apart from the vitalquestion of national life, and regardingonly the individual interest of thechildren themselves, happiness in thetrue sense is a hundredfold more apt tocome to any given member of a healthyfamily of healthy-minded children, wellbrought up, well educated, but taught thatthey must shift for themselves, must wintheir own way, and by their ownexertions make their own positions ofusefulness, than it is apt to come to thosewhose parents themselves have acted onand have trained their children to act on,the selfish and sordid theory that thewhole end of life is to "taste a few good

things."The intelligence of the remark is on a

par with its morality; for the mostrudimentary mental process would haveshown the speaker that if the averagefamily in which there are childrencontained but two children the nation asa whole would decrease in populationso rapidly that in two or threegenerations it would very deservedly beon the point of extinction, so that thepeople who had acted on this base andselfish doctrine would be giving place toothers with braver and more robustideals. Nor would such a result be in anyway regrettable; for a race that practisedsuch doctrine—that is, a race thatpractised race suicide—would thereby

conclusively show that it was unfit toexist, and that it had better give place topeople who had not forgotten theprimary laws of their being.

To sum up, then, the whole matter issimple enough. If either a race or anindividual prefers the pleasure of moreeffortless ease, of self-indulgence, to theinfinitely deeper, the infinitely higherpleasures that come to those who knowthe toil and the weariness, but also thejoy, of hard duty well done, why, thatrace or that individual must inevitably inthe end pay the penalty of leading a lifeboth vapid and ignoble. No man and nowoman really worthy of the name cancare for the life spent solely or chiefly inthe avoidance of risk and trouble and

labor. Save in exceptional cases theprizes worth having in life must be paidfor, and the life worth living must be alife of work for a worthy end, andordinarily of work more for others thanfor one's self.

The woman's task is not easy—no taskworth doing is easy—but in doing it, andwhen she has done it, there shall come toher the highest and holiest joy known tomankind; and having done it, she shallhave the reward prophesied in Scripture;for her husband and her children, yes,and all people who realize that her worklies at the foundation of all nationalhappiness and greatness, shall rise upand call her blessed.

ALTON B. PARKER

THE CALL TO DEMOCRATSFrom a speech opening the National

DemocraticConvention at Baltimore, Md., June,

1912.It is not the wild and cruel methods of

revolution and violence that are neededto correct the abuses incident to ourGovernment as to all things human.Neither material nor moral progress liesthat way. We have made ourGovernment and our complicatedinstitutions by appeals to reason, seekingto educate all our people that, day afterday, year after year, century aftercentury, they may see more clearly, actmore justly, become more and moreattached to the fundamental ideas that

underlie our society. If we are topreserve undiminished the heritagebequeathed us, and add to it thoseaccretions without which society wouldperish, we shall need all the powers thatthe school, the church, the court, thedeliberative assembly, and the quietthought of our people can bring to bear.

We are called upon to do battleagainst the unfaithful guardians of ourConstitution and liberties and the hordesof ignorance which are pushing forwardonly to the ruin of our social andgovernmental fabric.

Too long has the country endured theoffenses of the leaders of a party whichonce knew greatness. Too long have webeen blind to the bacchanal of

corruption. Too long have we listlesslywatched the assembling of the forces thatthreaten our country and our firesides.

The time has come when the salvationof the country demands the restoration toplace and power of men of high idealswho will wage unceasing war againstcorruption in politics, who will enforcethe law against both rich and poor, andwho will treat guilt as personal andpunish it accordingly.

What is our duty? To think alike as tomen and measures? Impossible! Even forour great party! There is not areactionary among us. All Democrats areProgressives. But it is inevitably humanthat we shall not all agree that in a singlehighway is found the only road to

progress, or each make the same man ofall our worthy candidates his firstchoice.

It is impossible, however, and it isour duty to put aside all selfishness, toconsent cheerfully that the majority shallspeak for each of us, and to march out ofthis convention shoulder to shoulder,intoning the praises of our chosen leader—and that will be his due, whichever ofthe honorable and able men nowclaiming our attention shall be chosen.

JOHN W. WESCOTTNOMINATING WOODROW

WILSONAt the National DemocraticConvention, Baltimore,Maryland, June, 1912.

The New Jersey delegation iscommissioned to represent the greatcause of Democracy and to offer you asits militant and triumphant leader ascholar, not a charlatan; a statesman, nota doctrinaire; a profound lawyer, not asplitter of legal hairs; a politicaleconomist, not an egotistical theorist; apractical politician, who constructs,modifies, restrains, without disturbanceand destruction; a resistless debater andconsummate master of statement, not amere sophist; a humanitarian, not adefamer of characters and lives; a manwhose mind is at once cosmopolitan andcomposite of America; a gentleman ofunpretentious habits, with the fear ofGod in his heart and the love of mankind

exhibited in every act of his life; aboveall a public servant who has been triedto the uttermost and never found wanting—matchless, unconquerable, the ultimateDemocrat, Woodrow Wilson.

New Jersey has reasons for hercourse. Let us not be deceived in ourpremises. Campaigns of vilification,corruption and false pretence have losttheir usefulness. The evolution ofnational energy is towards a moreintelligent morality in politics and in allother relations. The situation admits ofno compromise. The temper and purposeof the American public will tolerate noother view. The indifference of theAmerican people to politics hasdisappeared. Any platform and any

candidate not conforming to this vastsocial and commercial behest will godown to ignominious defeat at the polls.

Men are known by what they say anddo. They are known by those who hateand oppose them. Many years agoWoodrow Wilson said, "No man is greatwho thinks himself so, and no man isgood who does not try to secure thehappiness and comfort of others." This isthe secret of his life. The deeds of thismoral and intellectual giant are known toall men. They accord, not with the shamsand false pretences of politics, but makenational harmony with the millions ofpatriots determined to correct thewrongs of plutocracy and reestablish themaxims of American liberty in all their

regnant beauty and practicaleffectiveness. New Jersey lovesWoodrow Wilson not for the enemies hehas made. New Jersey loves him forwhat he is. New Jersey argues thatWoodrow Wilson is the only candidatewho can not only make Democraticsuccess a certainty, but secure theelectoral vote of almost every State inthe Union.

New Jersey will indorse hisnomination by a majority of 100,000 ofher liberated citizens. We are notbuilding for a day, or even a generation,but for all time. New Jersey believesthat there is an omniscience in nationalinstinct. That instinct centers inWoodrow Wilson. He has been in

political life less than two years. He hashad no organization; only a practicalideal—the reestablishment of equalopportunity. Not his deeds alone, not hisimmortal words alone, not hispersonality alone, not his matchlesspowers alone, but all combined compelnational faith and confidence in him.Every crisis evolves its master. Timeand circumstance have evolvedWoodrow Wilson. The North, the South,the East, and the West unite in him. NewJersey appeals to this convention to givethe nation Woodrow Wilson, that he mayopen the gates of opportunity to everyman, woman, and child under our flag,by reforming abuses, and therebyteaching them, in his matchless words,

"to release their energies intelligently,that peace, justice and prosperity mayreign." New Jersey rejoices, through herfreely chosen representatives, to namefor the presidency of the United Statesthe Princeton schoolmaster, WoodrowWilson.

HENRY W. GRADYTHE RACE PROBLEM

Delivered at the annual banquet of theBoston Merchants'

Association, at Boston, Mass.,December 12, 1889.

MR. PRESIDENT:—Bidden by yourinvitation to a discussion of the raceproblem—forbidden by occasion tomake a political speech—I appreciate,in trying to reconcile orders with

propriety, the perplexity of the littlemaid, who, bidden to learn to swim, wasyet adjured, "Now, go, my darling; hangyour clothes on a hickory limb, and don'tgo near the water."

The stoutest apostle of the Church,they say, is the missionary, and themissionary, wherever he unfurls his flag,will never find himself in deeper need ofunction and address than I, bidden to-night to plant the standard of a SouthernDemocrat in Boston's banquet hall, andto discuss the problem of the races in thehome of Phillips and of Sumner. But,Mr. President, if a purpose to speak inperfect frankness and sincerity; if earnestunderstanding of the vast interestsinvolved; if a consecrating sense of what

disaster may follow furthermisunderstanding and estrangement; ifthese may be counted upon to steadyundisciplined speech and to strengthenan untried arm—then, sir, I shall find thecourage to proceed.

Happy am I that this mission hasbrought my feet at last to press NewEngland's historic soil and my eyes tothe knowledge of her beauty and herthrift. Here within touch of PlymouthRock and Bunker Hill—where Websterthundered and Longfellow sang,Emerson thought and Channing preached—here, in the cradle of American lettersand almost of American liberty, I hastento make the obeisance that everyAmerican owes New England when first

he stands uncovered in her mightypresence. Strange apparition! This sternand unique figure—carved from theocean and the wilderness—its majestykindling and growing amid the storms ofwinter and of wars—until at last thegloom was broken, its beauty disclosedin the sunshine, and the heroic workersrested at its base—while startled kingsand emperors gazed and marveled thatfrom the rude touch of this handful caston a bleak and unknown shore shouldhave come the embodied genius ofhuman government and the perfectedmodel of human liberty! God bless thememory of those immortal workers, andprosper the fortunes of their living sons—and perpetuate the inspiration of their

handiwork.Two years ago, sir, I spoke some

words in New York that caught theattention of the North. As I stand here toreiterate, as I have done everywhere,every word I then uttered—to declarethat the sentiments I then avowed wereuniversally approved in the South—Irealize that the confidence begotten bythat speech is largely responsible for mypresence here to-night. I should dishonormyself if I betrayed that confidence byuttering one insincere word, or bywithholding one essential element of thetruth. Apropos of this last, let meconfess, Mr. President, before the praiseof New England has died on my lips,that I believe the best product of her

present life is the procession ofseventeen thousand Vermont Democratsthat for twenty-two years, undiminishedby death, unrecruited by birth orconversion, have marched over theirrugged hills, cast their Democraticballots and gone back home to pray fortheir unregenerate neighbors, and awaketo read the record of twenty-six thousandRepublican majority. May the God of thehelpless and the heroic help them, andmay their sturdy tribe increase.

Far to the South, Mr. President,separated from this section by a line—once defined in irrepressible difference,once traced in fratricidal blood, andnow, thank God, but a vanishing shadow—lies the fairest and richest domain of

this earth. It is the home of a brave andhospitable people. There is centered allthat can please or prosper humankind. Aperfect climate above a fertile soilyields to the husbandman every productof the temperate zone. There, by night thecotton whitens beneath the stars, and byday the wheat locks the sunshine in itsbearded sheaf. In the same field theclover steals the fragrance of the wind,and tobacco catches the quick aroma ofthe rains. There are mountains storedwith exhaustless treasures; forests—vastand primeval; and rivers that, tumblingor loitering, run wanton to the sea. Of thethree essential items of all industries—cotton, iron and wood—that region haseasy control. In cotton, a fixed monopoly

—in iron, proven supremacy—in timber,the reserve supply of the Republic. Fromthis assured and permanent advantage,against which artificial conditionscannot much longer prevail, has grownan amazing system of industries. Notmaintained by human contrivance oftariff or capital, afar off from the fullestand cheapest source of supply, butresting in divine assurance, within touchof field and mine and forest—not setamid costly farms from whichcompetition has driven the farmer indespair, but amid cheap and sunny lands,rich with agriculture, to which neitherseason nor soil has set a limit—thissystem of industries is mounting to asplendor that shall dazzle and illumine

the world. That, sir, is the picture andthe promise of my home—a land betterand fairer than I have told you, and yetbut fit setting in its material excellencefor the loyal and gentle quality of itscitizenship. Against that, sir, we haveNew England, recruiting the Republicfrom its sturdy loins, shaking from itsovercrowded hives new swarms ofworkers, and touching this land all overwith its energy and its courage. And yet—while in the Eldorado of which I havetold you but fifteen per cent of its landsare cultivated, its mines scarcelytouched, and its population so scant that,were it set equidistant, the sound of thehuman voice could not be heard fromVirginia to Texas—while on the

threshold of nearly every house in NewEngland stands a son, seeking, withtroubled eyes, some new land in whichto carry his modest patrimony, thestrange fact remains that in 1880 theSouth had fewer northern-born citizensthan she had in 1870—fewer in '70 thanin '60. Why is this? Why is it, sir, thoughthe section line be now but a mist thatthe breath may dispel, fewer men of theNorth have crossed it over to the South,than when it was crimson with the bestblood of the Republic, or even when theslaveholder stood guard every inch of itsway?

There can be but one answer. It is thevery problem we are now to consider.The key that opens that problem will

unlock to the world the fairest half ofthis Republic, and free the halted feet ofthousands whose eyes are alreadykindling with its beauty. Better than this,it will open the hearts of brothers forthirty years estranged, and clasp inlasting comradeship a million hands nowwithheld in doubt. Nothing, sir, but thisproblem and the suspicions it breeds,hinders a clear understanding and aperfect union. Nothing else standsbetween us and such love as boundGeorgia and Massachusetts at ValleyForge and Yorktown, chastened by thesacrifices of Manassas and Gettysburg,and illumined with the coming of betterwork and a nobler destiny than was everwrought with the sword or sought at the

cannon's mouth.If this does not invite your patient

hearing to-night—hear one thing more.My people, your brothers in the South—brothers in blood, in destiny, in all thatis best in our past and future—are sobeset with this problem that their veryexistence depends on its right solution.Nor are they wholly to blame for itspresence. The slave-ships of theRepublic sailed from your ports, theslaves worked in our fields. You willnot defend the traffic, nor I theinstitution. But I do here declare that inits wise and humane administration inlifting the slave to heights of which hehad not dreamed in his savage home, andgiving him a happiness he has not yet

found in freedom, our fathers left theirsons a saving and excellent heritage. Inthe storm of war this institution was lost.I thank God as heartily as you do thathuman slavery is gone forever fromAmerican soil. But the freedmanremains. With him, a problem withoutprecedent or parallel. Note its appallingconditions. Two utterly dissimilar raceson the same soil—with equal politicaland civil rights—almost equal innumbers, but terribly unequal inintelligence and responsibility—eachpledged against fusion—one for acentury in servitude to the other, andfreed at last by a desolating war, theexperiment sought by neither butapproached by both with doubt—these

are the conditions. Under these, adverseat every point, we are required to carrythese two races in peace and honor tothe end.

Never, sir, has such a task been givento mortal stewardship. Never before inthis Republic has the white race dividedon the rights of an alien race. The redman was cut down as a weed because hehindered the way of the Americancitizen. The yellow man was shut out ofthis Republic because he is an alien, andinferior. The red man was owner of theland—the yellow man was highlycivilized and assimilable—but theyhindered both sections and are gone! Butthe black man, affecting but one section,is clothed with every privilege of

government and pinned to the soil, andmy people commanded to make good atany hazard, and at any cost, his full andequal heirship of American privilegeand prosperity. It matters not that everyother race has been routed or excludedwithout rhyme or reason. It matters notthat wherever the whites and the blackshave touched, in any era or in any clime,there has been an irreconcilableviolence. It matters not that no tworaces, however similar, have livedanywhere, at any time, on the same soilwith equal rights in peace! In spite ofthese things we are commanded to makegood this change of American policywhich has not perhaps changedAmerican prejudice—to make certain

here what has elsewhere beenimpossible between whites and blacks—and to reverse, under the very worstconditions, the universal verdict ofracial history. And driven, sir, to thissuperhuman task with an impatience thatbrooks no delay—a rigor that accepts noexcuse—and a suspicion thatdiscourages frankness and sincerity. Wedo not shrink from this trial. It is sointerwoven with our industrial fabricthat we cannot disentangle it if wewould—so bound up in our honorableobligation to the world, that we wouldnot if we could. Can we solve it? TheGod who gave it into our hands, Healone can know. But this the weakest andwisest of us do know: we cannot solve it

with less than your tolerant and patientsympathy—with less than the knowledgethat the blood that runs in your veins isour blood—and that, when we havedone our best, whether the issue be lostor won, we shall feel your strong armsabout us and hear the beating of yourapproving hearts!

The resolute, clear-headed, broad-minded men of the South—the menwhose genius made glorious every pageof the first seventy years of Americanhistory—whose courage and fortitudeyou tested in five years of the fiercestwar—whose energy has made brickswithout straw and spread splendor amidthe ashes of their war-wasted homes—these men wear this problem in their

hearts and brains, by day and by night.They realize, as you cannot, what thisproblem means—what they owe to thiskindly and dependent race—the measureof their debt to the world in whosedespite they defended and maintainedslavery. And though their feet arehindered in its undergrowth, and theirmarch cumbered with its burdens, theyhave lost neither the patience fromwhich comes clearness, nor the faithfrom which comes courage. Nor, sir,when in passionate moments isdisclosed to them that vague and awfulshadow, with its lurid abysses and itscrimson stains, into which I pray Godthey may never go, are they struck withmore of apprehension than is needed to

complete their consecration!Such is the temper of my people. But

what of the problem itself? Mr.President, we need not go one stepfurther unless you concede right here thatthe people I speak for are as honest, assensible and as just as your people,seeking as earnestly as you would intheir place to rightly solve the problemthat touches them at every vital point. Ifyou insist that they are ruffians, blindlystriving with bludgeon and shotgun toplunder and oppress a race, then I shallsacrifice my self-respect and tax yourpatience in vain. But admit that they aremen of common sense and commonhonesty, wisely modifying anenvironment they cannot wholly

disregard—guiding and controlling asbest they can the vicious andirresponsible of either race—compensating error with frankness, andretrieving in patience what they lost inpassion—and conscious all the time thatwrong means ruin—admit this, and wemay reach an understanding to-night.

The President of the United States, inhis late message to Congress, discussingthe plea that the South should be left tosolve this problem, asks: "Are they atwork upon it? What solution do theyoffer? When will the black man cast afree ballot? When will he have the civilrights that are his?" I shall not hereprotest against a partisanry that, for thefirst time in our history, in time of peace,

has stamped with the great seal of ourgovernment a stigma upon the people ofa great and loyal section; though Igratefully remember that the great deadsoldier, who held the helm of State forthe eight stormiest years ofreconstruction, never found need forsuch a step; and though there is nopersonal sacrifice I would not make toremove this cruel and unjust imputationon my people from the archives of mycountry! But, sir, backed by a record, onevery page of which is progress, Iventure to make earnest and respectfulanswer to the questions that are asked.We give to the world this year a crop of7,500,000 bales of cotton, worth$450,000,000, and its cash equivalent in

grain, grasses and fruit. This enormouscrop could not have come from the handsof sullen and discontented labor. Itcomes from peaceful fields, in whichlaughter and gossip rise above the humof industry, and contentment runs withthe singing plough. It is claimed that thisignorant labor is defrauded of its justhire, I present the tax books of Georgia,which show that the negro twenty-fiveyears ago a slave, has in Georgia alone$10,000,000 of assessed property, worthtwice that much. Does not that recordhonor him and vindicate his neighbors?

What people, penniless, illiterate, hasdone so well? For every Afro-Americanagitator, stirring the strife in which alonehe prospers, I can show you a thousand

negroes, happy in their cabin homes,tilling their own land by day, and at nighttaking from the lips of their children thehelpful message their State sends themfrom the schoolhouse door. And theschoolhouse itself bears testimony. InGeorgia we added last year $250,000 tothe school fund, making a total of morethan $1,000,000—and this in the face ofprejudice not yet conquered—of the factthat the whites are assessed for$368,000,000, the blacks for$10,000,000, and yet forty-nine per centof the beneficiaries are black children;and in the doubt of many wise men ifeducation helps, or can help, ourproblem. Charleston, with her taxablevalues cut half in two since 1860, pays

more in proportion for public schoolsthan Boston. Although it is easier to givemuch out of much than little out of little,the South, with one-seventh of thetaxable property of the country, withrelatively larger debt, having receivedonly one-twelfth as much of publiclands, and having back of its tax booksnone of the $500,000,000 of bonds thatenrich the North—and though it paysannually $26,000,000 to your section aspensions—yet gives nearly one-sixth tothe public school fund. The South since1865 has spent $122,000,000 ineducation, and this year is pledged to$32,000,000 more for State and cityschools, although the blacks, paying one-thirtieth of the taxes, get nearly one-half

of the fund. Go into our fields and seewhites and blacks working side by side.On our buildings in the same squad. Inour shops at the same forge. Often theblacks crowd the whites from work, orlower wages by their greater need andsimpler habits, and yet are permitted,because we want to bar them from noavenue in which their feet are fitted totread. They could not there be electedorators of white universities, as theyhave been here, but they do enter there ahundred useful trades that are closedagainst them here. We hold it better andwiser to tend the weeds in the gardenthan to water the exotic in the window.

In the South there are negro lawyers,teachers, editors, dentists, doctors,

preachers, multiplying with theincreasing ability of their race to supportthem. In villages and towns they havetheir military companies equipped fromthe armories of the State, their churchesand societies built and supported largelyby their neighbors. What is the testimonyof the courts? In penal legislation wehave steadily reduced felonies tomisdemeanors, and have led the worldin mitigating punishment for crime, thatwe might save, as far as possible, thisdependent race from its own weakness.In our penitentiary record sixty per centof the prosecutors are negroes, and inevery court the negro criminal strikes thecolored juror, that white men may judgehis case.

In the North, one negro in every 185 isin jail—in the South, only one in 446. Inthe North the percentage of negroprisoners is six times as great as that ofnative whites; in the South, only fourtimes as great. If prejudice wrongs himin Southern courts, the record shows it tobe deeper in Northern courts. I asserthere, and a bar as intelligent and uprightas the bar of Massachusetts willsolemnly indorse my assertion, that inthe Southern courts, from highest tolowest, pleading for life, liberty orproperty, the negro has distinctadvantage because he is a negro, apt tobe overreached, oppressed—and thatthis advantage reaches from the juror inmaking his verdict to the judge in

measuring his sentence.Now, Mr. President, can it be

seriously maintained that we areterrorizing the people from whosewilling hands comes every year$1,000,000,000 of farm crops? Or haverobbed a people who, twenty-five yearsfrom unrewarded slavery, have amassedin one State $20,000,000 of property?Or that we intend to oppress the peoplewe are arming every day? Or deceivethem, when we are educating them to theutmost limit of our ability? Or outlawthem, when we work side by side withthem? Or re-enslave them under legalforms, when for their benefit we haveeven imprudently narrowed the limit offelonies and mitigated the severity of

law? My fellow-countrymen, as youyourselves may sometimes have toappeal at the bar of human judgment forjustice and for right, give to my peopleto-night the fair and unanswerableconclusion of these incontestable facts.

But it is claimed that under this fairseeming there is disorder and violence.This I admit. And there will be untilthere is one ideal community on earthafter which we may pattern. But howwidely is it misjudged! It is hard tomeasure with exactness whatevertouches the negro. His helplessness, hisisolation, his century of servitude,—these dispose us to emphasize andmagnify his wrongs. This disposition,inflamed by prejudice and partisanry,

has led to injustice and delusion.Lawless men may ravage a county inIowa and it is accepted as an incident—in the South, a drunken row is declaredto be the fixed habit of the community.Regulators may whip vagabonds inIndiana by platoons and it scarcelyarrests attention—a chance collision inthe South among relatively the sameclasses is gravely accepted as evidencethat one race is destroying the other. Wemight as well claim that the Union wasungrateful to the colored soldier whofollowed its flag because a Grand Armypost in Connecticut closed its doors to anegro veteran as for you to give racialsignificance to every incident in theSouth, or to accept exceptional grounds

as the rule of our society. I am not one ofthose who becloud American honor withthe parade of the outrages of eithersection, and belie American character bydeclaring them to be significant andrepresentative. I prefer to maintain thatthey are neither, and stand for nothingbut the passion and sin of our poor fallenhumanity. If society, like a machine,were no stronger than its weakest part, Ishould despair of both sections. But,knowing that society, sentient andresponsible in every fiber, can mend andrepair until the whole has the strength ofthe best, I despair of neither. Thesegentlemen who come with me here, knitinto Georgia's busy life as they are,never saw, I dare assert, an outrage

committed on a negro! And if they did,no one of you would be swifter toprevent or punish. It is through them, andthe men and women who think with them—making nine-tenths of every Southerncommunity—that these two races havebeen carried thus far with less ofviolence than would have been possibleanywhere else on earth. And in theirfairness and courage and steadfastness—more than in all the laws that can bepassed, or all the bayonets that can bemustered—is the hope of our future.

When will the blacks cast a freeballot? When ignorance anywhere is notdominated by the will of the intelligent;when the laborer anywhere casts a voteunhindered by his boss; when the vote of

the poor anywhere is not influenced bythe power of the rich; when the strongand the steadfast do not everywherecontrol the suffrage of the weak andshiftless—then, and not till then, will theballot of the negro be free. The whitepeople of the South are banded, Mr.President, not in prejudice against theblacks—not in sectional estrangement—not in the hope of political dominion—but in a deep and abiding necessity.Here is this vast ignorant andpurchasable vote—clannish, credulous,impulsive, and passionate—temptingevery art of the demagogue, butinsensible to the appeal of the stateman.Wrongly started, in that it was led intoalienation from its neighbor and taught

t o rely on the protection of an outsideforce, it cannot be merged and lost in thetwo great parties through logicalcurrents, for it lacks political convictionand even that information on whichconviction must be based. It must remaina faction—strong enough in everycommunity to control on the slightestdivision of the whites. Under thatdivision it becomes the prey of thecunning and unscrupulous of bothparties. Its credulity is imposed upon, itspatience inflamed, its cupidity tempted,its impulses misdirected—and even itssuperstition made to play its part in acampaign in which every interest ofsociety is jeopardized and everyapproach to the ballot-box debauched. It

is against such campaigns as this—thefolly and the bitterness and the danger ofwhich every Southern community hasdrunk deeply—that the white people ofthe South are banded together. Just asyou in Massachusetts would be bandedif 300,000 men, not one in a hundredable to read his ballot—banded in raceinstinct, holding against you the memoryof a century of slavery, taught by yourlate conquerors to distrust and opposeyou, had already travestied legislationfrom your State House, and in everyspecies of folly or villainy had wastedyour substance and exhausted yourcredit.

But admitting the right of the whites tounite against this tremendous menace,

we are challenged with the smallness ofour vote. This has long been flippantlycharged to be evidence and has nowbeen solemnly and officially declared tobe proof of political turpitude andbaseness on our part. Let us see.Virginia—a state now under fierceassault for this alleged crime—cast in1888 seventy-five per cent of her vote;Massachusetts, the State in which Ispeak, sixty per cent of her vote. Was itsuppression in Virginia and naturalcauses in Massachusetts? Last monthVirginia cast sixty-nine per cent of hervote; and Massachusetts, fighting inevery district, cast only forty-nine percent of hers. If Virginia is condemnedbecause thirty-one per cent of her vote

was silent, how shall this State escape,in which fifty-one per cent was dumb?Let us enlarge this comparison. Thesixteen Southern States in '88 cast sixty-seven per cent of their total vote—thesix New England States but sixty-threeper cent of theirs. By what fair rule shallthe stigma be put upon one section whilethe other escapes? A congressionalelection in New York last week, withthe polling place in touch of every voter,brought out only 6,000 votes of 28,000—and the lack of opposition is assignedas the natural cause. In a district in myState, in which an opposition speech hasnot been heard in ten years and thepolling places are miles apart—underthe unfair reasoning of which my section

has been a constant victim—the smallvote is charged to be proof of forciblesuppression. In Virginia an averagemajority of 12,000, unless hopelessdivision of the minority, was raised to42,000; in Iowa, in the same election, amajority of 32,000 was wiped out andan opposition majority of 8,000 wasestablished. The change of 40,000 votesin Iowa is accepted as politicalrevolution—in Virginia an increase of30,000 on a safe majority is declared tobe proof of political fraud.

It is deplorable, sir, that in bothsections a larger percentage of the voteis not regularly cast, but moreinexplicable that this should be so inNew England than in the South. What

invites the negro to the ballot-box? Heknows that of all men it has promisedhim most and yielded him least. His firstappeal to suffrage was the promise of"forty acres and a mule;" his second, thethreat that Democratic success meant hisre-enslavement. Both have been provedfalse in his experience. He looked for ahome, and he got the Freedman's Bank.He fought under promise of the loaf, andin victory was denied the crumbs.Discouraged and deceived, he hasrealized at last that his best friends arehis neighbors with whom his lot is cast,and whose prosperity is bound up in his—and that he has gained nothing inpolitics to compensate the loss of theirconfidence and sympathy, that is at last

his best and enduring hope. And so,without leaders or organization—andlacking the resolute heroism of my partyfriends in Vermont that make theirhopeless march over the hills a high andinspiring pilgrimage—he shrewdlymeasures the occasional agitator,balances his little account with politics,touches up his mule, and jogs down thefurrow, letting the mad world wag as itwill!

The negro voter can never control inthe South, and it would be well ifpartisans at the North would understandthis. I have seen the white people of aState set about by black hosts until theirfate seemed sealed. But, sir, some bravemen, banding them together, would rise

as Elisha rose in beleaguered Samaria,and, touching their eyes with faith, bidthem look abroad to see the very air"filled with the chariots of Israel and thehorsemen thereof." If there is any humanforce that cannot be withstood, it is thepower of the banded intelligence andresponsibility of a free community.Against it, numbers and corruptioncannot prevail. It cannot be forbidden inthe law, or divorced in force. It is theinalienable right of every freecommunity—the just and righteoussafeguard against an ignorant or corruptsuffrage. It is on this, sir, that we rely inthe South. Not the cowardly menace ofmask or shotgun, but the peacefulmajesty of intelligence and

responsibility, massed and unified forthe protection of its homes and thepreservation of its liberty. That, sir, isour reliance and our hope, and against itall the powers of earth shall not prevail.It is just as certain that Virginia wouldcome back to the unchallenged control ofher white race—that before the moraland material power of her people oncemore unified, opposition would crumbleuntil its last desperate leader wasleft alone, vainly striving to rally hisdisordered hosts—as that night shouldfade in the kindling glory of the sun. Youmay pass force bills, but they will notavail. You may surrender your ownliberties to federal election law; youmay submit, in fear of a necessity that

does not exist, that the very form of thisgovernment may be changed; you mayinvite federal interference with the NewEngland town meeting, that has been fora hundred years the guarantee of localgovernment in America; this old State—which holds in its charter the boast thatit "is a free and independentcommonwealth"—may deliver itselection machinery into the hands of thegovernment it helped to create—butnever, sir, will a single State of thisUnion, North or South, be deliveredagain to the control of an ignorant andinferior race. We wrested our stategovernments from negro supremacywhen the Federal drumbeat rolled closerto the ballot-box, and Federal bayonets

hedged it deeper about than will everagain be permitted in this freegovernment. But, sir, though the cannonof this Republic thundered in everyvoting district in the South, we stillshould find in the mercy of God themeans and the courage to prevent itsreestablishment.

I regret, sir, that my section, hinderedwith this problem, stands in seemingestrangement to the North. If, sir, anyman will point out to me a path downwhich the white people of the South,divided, may walk in peace and honor, Iwill take that path, though I take it alone—for at its end, and nowhere else, Ifear, is to be found the full prosperity ofmy section and the full restoration of this

Union. But, sir, if the negro had not beenenfranchised the South would have beendivided and the Republic united. Hisenfranchisement—against which I enterno protest—holds the South united andcompact. What solution, then, can weoffer for the problem? Time alone candisclose it to us. We simply reportprogress, and ask your patience. If theproblem be solved at all—and I firmlybelieve it will, though nowhere else hasit been—it will be solved by the peoplemost deeply bound in interest, mostdeeply pledged in honor to its solution. Ihad rather see my people render backthis question rightly solved than to seethem gather all the spoils over whichfaction has contended since Cataline

conspired and Cæsar fought. Meantimewe treat the negro fairly, measuring tohim justice in the fulness the strongshould give to the weak, and leading himin the steadfast ways of citizenship, thathe may no longer be the prey of theunscrupulous and the sport of thethoughtless. We open to him everypursuit in which he can prosper, andseek to broaden his training andcapacity. We seek to hold his confidenceand friendship—and to pin him to thesoil with ownership, that he may catch inthe fire of his own hearthstone that senseof responsibility the shiftless can neverknow. And we gather him into thatalliance of intelligence andresponsibility that, though it now runs

close to racial lines, welcomes theresponsible and intelligent of any race.By this course, confirmed in ourjudgment, and justified in the progressalready made, we hope to progressslowly but surely to the end.

The love we feel for that race, youcannot measure nor comprehend. As Iattest it here, the spirit of my old blackmammy, from her home up there, looksdown to bless, and through the tumult ofthis night steals the sweet music of hercroonings as thirty years ago she held mein her black arms and led me smiling tosleep. This scene vanishes as I speak,and I catch a vision of an old Southernhome with its lofty pillars and its whitepigeons fluttering down through the

golden air. I see women with strainedand anxious faces, and children alert yethelpless. I see night come down with itsdangers and its apprehensions, and in abig homely room I feel on my tired headthe touch of loving hands—now wornand wrinkled, but fairer to me yet thanthe hands of mortal woman, and strongeryet to lead me than the hands of mortalman—as they lay a mother's blessingthere, while at her knees—the truestaltar I yet have found—I thank God thatshe is safe in her sanctuary, because herslaves, sentinel in the silent cabin, orguard at her chamber door, put a blackman's loyalty between her and danger.

I catch another vision. The crisis ofbattle—a soldier, struck, staggering,

fallen. I see a slave, scuffing through thesmoke, winding his black arms about thefallen form, reckless of hurtling death—bending his trusty face to catch thewords that tremble on the stricken lips,so wrestling meantime with agony thathe would lay down his life in hismaster's stead. I see him by the wearybedside, ministering with uncomplainingpatience, praying with all his humbleheart that God will lift his master up,until death comes in mercy and in honorto still the soldier's agony and seal thesoldier's life. I see him by the opengrave—mute, motionless, uncovered,suffering for the death of him who in lifefought against his freedom. I see him,when the mold is heaped and the great

drama of his life is closed, turn awayand with downcast eyes and uncertainstep start out into new and strange fields,faltering, struggling, but moving on, untilhis shambling figure is lost in the light ofthis better and brighter day. And fromthe grave comes a voice, saying,"Follow him! put your arms about him inhis need, even as he put his about me. Behis friend as he was mine." And out intothis new world—strange to me as tohim, dazzling, bewildering both—Ifollow! And may God forget my people—when they forget these!

Whatever the future may hold forthem, whether they plod along in theservitude from which they have neverbeen lifted since the Cyrenian was laid

hold upon by the Roman soldiers, andmade to bear the cross of the faintingChrist—whether they find homes againin Africa, and thus hasten the prophecyof the psalmist, who said, "And suddenlyEthiopia shall hold out her hands untoGod"—whether forever dislocated andseparate, they remain a weak people,beset by stronger, and exist, as the Turk,who lives in the jealousy rather than inthe conscience of Europe—or whether inthis miraculous Republic they breakthrough the caste of twenty centuries and,belying universal history, reach the fullstature of citizenship, and in peacemaintain it—we shall give themuttermost justice and abiding friendship.And whatever we do, into whatever

seeming estrangement we may be driven,nothing shall disturb the love we bearthis Republic, or mitigate ourconsecration to its service. I stand here,Mr. President, to profess no new loyalty.When General Lee, whose heart was thetemple of our hopes, and whose arm wasclothed with our strength, renewed hisallegiance to this Government atAppomattox, he spoke from a heart toogreat to be false, and he spoke for everyhonest man from Maryland to Texas.From that day to this Hamilcar hasnowhere in the South sworn youngHannibal to hatred and vengeance, buteverywhere to loyalty and to love.Witness the veteran standing at the baseof a Confederate monument, above the

graves of his comrades, his empty sleevetossing in the April wind, adjuring theyoung men about him to serve as earnestand loyal citizens the Governmentagainst which their fathers fought. Thismessage, delivered from that sacredpresence, has gone home to the hearts ofmy fellows! And, sir, I declare here, ifphysical courage be always equal tohuman aspiration, that they would die,sir, if need be, to restore this Republictheir fathers fought to dissolve.

Such, Mr. President, is this problemas we see it, such is the temper in whichwe approach it, such the progress made.What do we ask of you? First, patience;out of this alone can come perfect work.Second, confidence; in this alone can

you judge fairly. Third, sympathy; in thisyou can help us best. Fourth, give usyour sons as hostages. When you plantyour capital in millions, send your sonsthat they may know how true are ourhearts and may help to swell theCaucasian current until it can carrywithout danger this black infusion. Fifth,loyalty to the Republic—for there issectionalism in loyalty as inestrangement. This hour little needs theloyalty that is loyal to one section andyet holds the other in enduring suspicionand estrangement. Give us the broad andperfect loyalty that loves and trustsGeorgia alike with Massachusetts—thatknows no South, no North, no East, noWest, but endears with equal and

patriotic love every foot of our soil,every State of our Union.

A mighty duty, sir, and a mightyinspiration impels every one of us to-night to lose in patriotic consecrationwhatever estranges, whatever divides.We, sir, are Americans—and we standfor human liberty! The uplifting force ofthe American idea is under every throneon earth. France, Brazil—these are ourvictories. To redeem the earth fromkingcraft and oppression—this is ourmission! And we shall not fail. God hassown in our soil the seed of Hismillennial harvest, and He will not laythe sickle to the ripening crop until Hisfull and perfect day has come. Ourhistory, sir, has been a constant and

expanding miracle, from Plymouth Rockand Jamestown, all the way—aye, evenfrom the hour when from the voicelessand traceless ocean a new world rose tothe sight of the inspired sailor. As weapproach the fourth centennial of thatstupendous day—when the old worldwill come to marvel and to learn amidour gathered treasures—let us resolve tocrown the miracles of our past with thespectacle of a Republic, compact,united, indissoluble in the bonds of love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—thewounds of war healed in every heart ason every hill, serene and resplendent atthe summit of human achievement andearthly glory, blazing out the path andmaking clear the way up which all the

nations of the earth must come in God'sappointed time!

WILLIAM McKINLEYLAST SPEECH

Delivered at the World's Fair,Buffalo, N.Y., on

September 5, 1901, the day before hewas assassinated.

I am glad again to be in the city ofBuffalo and exchange greetings with herpeople, to whose generous hospitality Iam not a stranger, and with whose goodwill I have been repeatedly and signallyhonored. To-day I have additionalsatisfaction in meeting and givingwelcome to the foreign representativesassembled here, whose presence andparticipation in this Exposition have

contributed in so marked a degree to itsinterest and success. To thecommissioners of the Dominion ofCanada and the British Colonies, theFrench Colonies, the Republics ofMexico and of Central and SouthAmerica, and the commissioners ofCuba and Porto Rico, who share with usin this undertaking, we give the hand offellowship and felicitate with them uponthe triumphs of art, science, educationand manufacture which the old hasbequeathed to the new century.

Expositions are the timekeepers ofprogress. They record the world'sadvancement. They stimulate the energy,enterprise and intellect of the people,and quicken human genius. They go into

the home. They broaden and brighten thedaily life of the people. They openmighty storehouses of information to thestudent. Every exposition, great or small,has helped to some onward step.

Comparison of ideas is alwayseducational and, as such, instructs thebrain and hand of man. Friendly rivalryfollows, which is the spur to industrialimprovement, the inspiration to usefulinvention and to high endeavor in alldepartments of human activity. It exactsa study of the wants, comforts, and eventhe whims of the people, and recognizesthe efficacy of high quality and lowprices to win their favor. The quest fortrade is an incentive to men of businessto devise, invent, improve and

economize in the cost of production.Business life, whether among ourselves,or with other peoples, is ever a sharpstruggle for success. It will be none theless in the future.

Without competition we would beclinging to the clumsy and antiquatedprocess of farming and manufacture andthe methods of business of long ago, andthe twentieth would be no furtheradvanced than the eighteenth century. Buttho commercial competitors we are,commercial enemies we must not be.The Pan-American Exposition has doneits work thoroughly, presenting in itsexhibits evidences of the highest skilland illustrating the progress of the humanfamily in the Western Hemisphere. This

portion of the earth has no cause forhumiliation for the part it has performedin the march of civilization. It has notaccomplished everything; far from it. Ithas simply done its best, and withoutvanity or boastfulness, and recognizingthe manifold achievements of others itinvites the friendly rivalry of all thepowers in the peaceful pursuits of tradeand commerce, and will cooperate withall in advancing the highest and bestinterests of humanity. The wisdom andenergy of all the nations are none toogreat for the world work. The success ofart, science, industry and invention is aninternational asset and a common glory.

After all, how near one to the other isevery part of the world. Modern

inventions have brought into closerelation widely separated peoples andmake them better acquainted.Geographic and political divisions willcontinue to exist, but distances havebeen effaced. Swift ships and fast trainsare becoming cosmopolitan. Theyinvade fields which a few years agowere impenetrable. The world'sproducts are exchanged as never beforeand with increasing transportationfacilities come increasing knowledgeand larger trade. Prices are fixed withmathematical precision by supply anddemand. The world's selling prices areregulated by market and crop reports.We travel greater distances in a shorterspace of time and with more ease than

was ever dreamed of by the fathers.Isolation is no longer possible ordesirable. The same important news isread, tho in different languages, the sameday in all Christendom.

The telegraph keeps us advised ofwhat is occurring everywhere, and thePress foreshadows, with more or lessaccuracy, the plans and purposes of thenations. Market prices of products andof securities are hourly known in everycommercial mart, and the investments ofthe people extend beyond theiro w n national boundaries into theremotest parts of the earth. Vasttransactions are conducted andinternational exchanges are made by thetick of the cable. Every event of interest

is immediately bulletined. The quickgathering and transmission of news, likerapid transit, are of recent origin, andare only made possible by the genius ofthe inventor and the courage of theinvestor. It took a special messenger ofthe government, with every facilityknown at the time for rapid travel,nineteen days to go from the City ofWashington to New Orleans with amessage to General Jackson that the warwith England had ceased and a treaty ofpeace had been signed. How differentnow! We reached General Miles, inPorto Rico, and he was able through themilitary telegraph to stop his army on thefiring line with the message that theUnited States and Spain had signed a

protocol suspending hostilities. Weknew almost instanter of the first shotsfired at Santiago, and the subsequentsurrender of the Spanish forces wasknown at Washington within less than anhour of its consummation. The first shipof Cervera's fleet had hardly emergedfrom that historic harbor when the factwas flashed to our Capitol, and the swiftdestruction that followed was announcedimmediately through the wonderfulmedium of telegraphy.

So accustomed are we to safe andeasy communication with distant landsthat its temporary interruption, even inordinary times, results in loss andinconvenience. We shall never forget thedays of anxious waiting and suspense

when no information was permitted to besent from Pekin, and the diplomaticrepresentatives of the nations in China,cut off from all communication, insideand outside of the walled capital, weresurrounded by an angry and misguidedmob that threatened their lives; nor thejoy that thrilled the world when a singlemessage from the government of theUnited States brought through ourminister the first news of the safety ofthe besieged diplomats.

At the beginning of the nineteenthcentury there was not a mile of steamrailroad on the globe; now there areenough miles to make its circuit manytimes. Then there was not a line ofelectric telegraph; now we have a vast

mileage traversing all lands and seas.God and man have linked the nationstogether. No nation can longer beindifferent to any other. And as we arebrought more and more in touch witheach other, the less occasion is there formisunderstandings, and the stronger thedisposition, when we have differences,to adjust them in the court of arbitration,which is the noblest forum for thesettlement of international disputes.

My fellow citizens, trade statisticsindicate that this country is in a state ofunexampled prosperity. The figures arealmost appalling. They show that we areutilizing our fields and forests andmines, and that we are furnishingprofitable employment to the millions of

workingmen throughout the UnitedStates, bringing comfort and happinessto their homes, and making it possible tolay by savings for old age and disability.That all the people are participating inthis great prosperity is seen in everyAmerican community and shown by theenormous and unprecedented deposits inour savings banks. Our duty in the careand security of these deposits and theirsafe investment demands the highestintegrity and the best business capacityof those in charge of these depositoriesof the people's earnings.

We have a vast and intricate business,built up through years of toil and strugglein which every part of the country has itsstake, which will not permit of either

neglect or of undue selfishness. Nonarrow, sordid policy will subserve it.The greatest skill and wisdom on thepart of manufacturers and producers willbe required to hold and increase it. Ourindustrial enterprises, which have grownto such great proportions, affect thehomes and occupations of the people andthe welfare of the country. Our capacityto produce has developed so enormouslyand our products have so multiplied thatthe problem of more markets requiresour urgent and immediate attention. Onlya broad and enlightened policy will keepwhat we have. No other policy will getmore. In these times of marvelousbusiness energy and gain we ought to belooking to the future, strengthening the

weak places in our industrial andcommercial systems, that we may beready for any storm or strain.

By sensible trade arrangements whichwill not interrupt our home productionwe shall extend the outlets for ourincreasing surplus. A system whichprovides a mutual exchange ofcommodities is manifestly essential tothe continued and healthful growth of ourexport trade. We must not repose in thefancied security that we can forever selleverything and buy little or nothing. Ifsuch a thing were possible it would notbe best for us or for those with whomwe deal. We should take from ourcustomers such of their products as wecan use without harm to our industries

and labor. Reciprocity is the naturaloutgrowth of our wonderful industrialdevelopment under the domestic policynow firmly established.

What we produce beyond ourdomestic consumption must have a ventabroad. The excess must be relievedthrough a foreign outlet, and we shouldsell everywhere we can and buywherever the buying will enlarge oursales and productions, and thereby makea greater demand for home labor.

The period of exclusiveness is past.The expansion of our trade andcommerce is the pressing problem.Commercial wars are unprofitable. Apolicy of good will and friendly traderelations will prevent reprisals.

Reciprocity treaties are in harmony withthe spirit of the times; measures ofretaliation are not. If, perchance, someof our tariffs are no longer needed forrevenue or to encourage and protect ourindustries at home, why shouldthey notbe employed to extend and promote ourmarkets abroad? Then, too, we haveinadequate steamship service. New linesof steamships have already been put incommission between the Pacific coastports of the United States and those onthe western coasts of Mexico andCentral and South America. Theseshould be followed up with directsteamship lines between the westerncoast of the United States and SouthAmerican ports. One of the needs of the

times is direct commercial lines fromour vast fields of production to the fieldsof consumption that we have but barelytouched. Next in advantage to having thething to sell is to have the conveyance tocarry it to the buyer. We must encourageour merchant marine. We must havemore ships. They must be under theAmerican flag; built and manned andowned by Americans. These will notonly be profitable in a commercialsense; they will be messengers of peaceand amity wherever they go.

We must build the Isthmian canal,which will unite the two oceans and givea straight line of water communicationwith the western coasts of Central andSouth America and Mexico. The

construction of a Pacific cable can notbe longer postponed. In the furtheranceof these objects of national interest andconcern you are performing an importantpart. This Exposition would havetouched the heart of that Americanstatesman whose mind was ever alertand thought ever constant for a largercommerce and a truer fraternity of therepublics of the New World. His broadAmerican spirit is felt and manifestedhere. He needs no identification to anassemblage of Americans anywhere, forthe name of Blaine is inseparablyassociated with the Pan-Americanmovement which finds here practicaland substantial expression, and whichwe all hope will be firmly advanced by

the Pan-American Congress thatassembles this autumn in the capital ofMexico. The good work will go on. Itcan not be stopped. Those buildings willdisappear; this creation of art and beautyand industry will perish from sight, buttheir influence will remain to "make itlive beyond its too short living withpraises and thanksgiving." Who can tellthe new thoughts that have beenawakened, the ambitions fired and thehigh achievements that will be wroughtthrough this Exposition?

Gentlemen, let us ever remember thatour interest is in concord, not conflict;and that our real eminence rests in thevictories of peace, not those of war. Wehope that all who are represented here

may be moved to higher and noblerefforts for their own and the world'sgood, and that out of this city may comenot only greater commerce and trade forus all, but, more essential than these,relations of mutual respect, confidenceand friendship which will deepen andendure. Our earnest prayer is that Godwill graciously vouchsafe prosperity,happiness and peace to all ourneighbors, and like blessings to all thepeoples and powers of earth.

JOHN HAYTRIBUTE TO MCKINLEY

From his memorial address at a jointsession of the Senate

and House of Representatives onFebruary 27, 1903.

For the third time the Congress of theUnited States are assembled tocommemorate the life and the death of apresident slain by the hand of anassassin. The attention of the futurehistorian will be attracted to the featureswhich reappear with startling samenessin all three of these awful crimes: theuselessness, the utter lack ofconsequence of the act; the obscurity, theinsignificance of the criminal; theblamelessness—so far as in our sphereof existence the best of men may be heldblameless—of the victim. Not one of ourmurdered presidents had an enemy in theworld; they were all of such preeminentpurity of life that no pretext could begiven for the attack of passional crime;

they were all men of democraticinstincts, who could never have offendedthe most jealous advocates of equity;they were of kindly and generous nature,to whom wrong or injustice wasimpossible; of moderate fortune, whoseslender means nobody could envy. Theywere men of austere virtue, of tenderheart, of eminent abilities, which theyhad devoted with single minds to thegood of the Republic. If ever menwalked before God and man withoutblame, it was these three rulers of ourpeople. The only temptation to attacktheir lives offered was their gentleradiance—to eyes hating the light, thatwas offense enough.

The stupid uselessness of such an

infamy affronts the common sense of theworld. One can conceive how the deathof a dictator may change the politicalconditions of an empire; how theextinction of a narrowing line of kingsmay bring in an alien dynasty. But in awell-ordered Republic like ours theruler may fall, but the State feels notremor. Our beloved and revered leaderis gone—but the natural process of ourlaws provides us a successor, identicalin purpose and ideals, nourished by thesame teachings, inspired by the sameprinciples, pledged by tender affectionas well as by high loyalty to carry tocompletion the immense task committedto his hands, and to smite with ironseverity every manifestation of that

hideous crime which his mildpredecessor, with his dying breath,forgave. The sayings of celestialwisdom have no date; the words thatreach us, over two thousand years, out ofthe darkest hour of gloom the world hasever known, are true to life to-day:"They know not what they do." The blowstruck at our dear friend and ruler wasas deadly as blind hate could make it;but the blow struck at anarchy wasdeadlier still.

How many countries can join with usin the community of a kindred sorrow! Iwill not speak of those distant regionswhere assassination enters into the dailylife of government. But among thenations bound to us by the ties of

familiar intercourse—who can forgetthat wise and mild autocrat who hadearned the proud title of the liberator?that enlightened and magnanimouscitizen whom France still mourns? thatbrave and chivalrous king of Italy whoonly lived for his people? and, saddestof all, that lovely and sorrowingempress, whose harmless life couldhardly have excited the animosity of ademon? Against that devilish spiritnothing avails,—neither virtue norpatriotism, nor age nor youth, norconscience nor pity. We can not evensay that education is a sufficientsafeguard against this baleful evil,—formost of the wretches whose crimes haveso shocked humanity in recent years

were men not unlettered, who have gonefrom the common schools, throughmurder to the scaffold.

The life of William McKinley was,from his birth to his death, typicallyAmerican. There is no environment, Ishould say, anywhere else in the worldwhich could produce just such acharacter. He was born into that way oflife which elsewhere is called themiddle class, but which in this country isso nearly universal as to make of otherclasses an almost negligible quantity. Hewas neither rich nor poor, neither proudnor humble; he knew no hunger he wasnot sure of satisfying, no luxury whichcould enervate mind or body. Hisparents were sober, God-fearing people;

intelligent and upright, withoutpretension and without humility. Hegrew up in the company of boys likehimself, wholesome, honest, self-respecting. They looked down onnobody; they never felt it possible theycould be looked down upon. Theirhouses were the homes of probity, piety,patriotism. They learned in theadmirable school readers of fifty yearsago the lessons of heroic and splendidlife which have come down from thepast. They read in their weeklynewspapers the story of the world'sprogress, in which they were eager totake part, and of the sins and wrongs ofcivilization with which they burned todo battle. It was a serious and thoughtful

time. The boys of that day felt dimly, butdeeply, that days of sharp struggle andhigh achievement were before them.They looked at life with the wonderingyet resolute eyes of a young esquire inhis vigil of arms. They felt a time wascoming when to them should beaddressed the stern admonition of theApostle, "Quit you like men; be strong."

The men who are living to-day andwere young in 1860 will never forget theglory and glamour that filled the earthand the sky when the long twilight ofdoubt and uncertainty was ending and thetime for action had come. A speech byAbraham Lincoln was an event not onlyof high moral significance, but of far-reaching importance; the drilling of a

militia company by Ellsworth attractednational attention; the fluttering of theflag in the clear sky drew tears from theeyes of young men. Patriotism, whichhad been a rhetorical expression,became a passionate emotion, in whichinstinct, logic and feeling were fused.The country was worth saving; it couldbe saved only by fire; no sacrifice wastoo great; the young men of the countrywere ready for the sacrifice; come weal,come woe, they were ready.

At seventeen years of age WilliamMcKinley heard this summons of hiscountry. He was the sort of youth towhom a military life in ordinary timeswould possess no attractions. His naturewas far different from that of the

ordinary soldier. He had other dreams oflife, its prizes and pleasures, than that ofmarches and battles. But to his mindthere was no choice or question. Thebanner floating in the morning breezewas the beckoning gesture of his country.The thrilling notes of the trumpet calledhim—him and none other—into theranks. His portrait in his first uniform isfamiliar to you all—the short, stockyfigure; the quiet, thoughtful face; thedeep, dark eyes. It is the face of a ladwho could not stay at home when hethought he was needed in the field. Hewas of the stuff of which good soldiersare made. Had he been ten years olderhe would have entered at the head of acompany and come out at the head of a

division. But he did what he could. Heenlisted as a private; he learned to obey.His serious, sensible ways, his prompt,alert efficiency soon attracted theattention of his superiors. He was sofaithful in little things that they gave himmore and more to do. He was untiring incamp and on the march; swift, cool andfearless in fight. He left the army withfield rank when the war ended, brevettedby President Lincoln for gallantry inbattle.

In coming years when men seek todraw the moral of our great Civil War,nothing will seem to them so admirablein all the history of our two magnificentarmies as the way in which the warcame to a close. When the Confederate

army saw the time had come, theyacknowledged the pitiless logic of factsand ceased fighting. When the army ofthe Union saw it was no longer needed,without a murmur or question, making noterms, asking no return, in the flush ofvictory and fulness of might, it laiddown its arms and melted back into themass of peaceful citizens. There is noevent since the nation was born whichhas so proved its solid capacity for self-government. Both sections share equallyin that crown of glory. They had held adebate of incomparable importance andhad fought it out with equal energy. Aconclusion had been reached—and it isto the everlasting honor of both sidesthat they each knew when the war was

over and the hour of a lasting peace hadstruck. We may admire the desperatedaring of others who prefer annihilationto compromise, but the palm of commonsense, and, I will say, of enlightenedpatriotism, belongs to the men like Grantand Lee, who knew when they had foughtenough for honor and for country.

So it came naturally about that in 1876—the beginning of the second century ofthe Republic—he began, by an electionto Congress, his political career.Thereafter for fourteen years thischamber was his home. I use the wordadvisedly. Nowhere in the world was heso in harmony with his environment ashere; nowhere else did his mind workwith such full consciousness of its

powers. The air of debate was native tohim; here he drank delight of battle withhis peers. In after days, when he droveby this stately pile, or when on rareoccasions his duty called him here, hegreeted his old haunts with theaffectionate zest of a child of the house;during all the last ten years of his life,filled as they were with activity andglory, he never ceased to be homesickfor this hall. When he came to thepresidency, there was not a day when hiscongressional service was not of use tohim. Probably no other president hasbeen in such full and cordial communionwith Congress, if we may except Lincolnalone. McKinley knew the legislativebody thoroughly, its composition, its

methods, its habit of thought. He had theprofoundest respect for its authority andan inflexible belief in the ultimaterectitude of its purposes. Our historyshows how surely an executive courtsdisaster and ruin by assuming an attitudeof hostility or distrust to the Legislature;and, on the other hand, McKinley's frankand sincere trust and confidence inCongress were repaid by prompt andloyal support and coöperation. Duringhis entire term of office this mutual trustand regard—so essential to the publicwelfare—was never shadowed by asingle cloud.

When he came to the presidency heconfronted a situation of the utmostdifficulty, which might well have

appalled a man of less serene andtranquil self-confidence. There had beena state of profound commercial andindustrial depression from which hisfriends had said his election wouldrelieve the country. Our relations withthe outside world left much to bedesired. The feeling between theNorthern and Southern sections of theUnion was lacking in the cordialitywhich was necessary to the welfare ofboth. Hawaii had asked for annexationand had been rejected by the precedingadministration. There was a state ofthings in the Caribbean which could notpermanently endure. Our neighbor'shouse was on fire, and there were gravedoubts as to our rights and duties in the

premises. A man either weak or rash,either irresolute or headstrong, mighthave brought ruin on himself andincalculable harm to the country.

The least desirable form of glory to aman of his habitual mood and temper—that of successful war—wasnevertheless conferred upon him byuncontrollable events. He felt it mustcome; he deplored its necessity; hestrained almost to breaking his relationswith his friends, in order, first to preventand then to postpone it to the latestpossible moment. But when the die wascast, he labored with the utmost energyand ardor, and with anintelligence inmilitary matters which showed howmuch of the soldier still survived in the

mature statesman, to push forward thewar to a decisive close. War was ananguish to him; he wanted it short andconclusive. His merciful zealcommunicated itself to his subordinates,and the war, so long dreaded, whoseconsequences were so momentous,ended in a hundred days.

Mr. McKinley was reelected by anoverwhelming majority. There had beenlittle doubt of the result among well-informed people, but when it wasknown, a profound feeling of relief andrenewal of trust were evident among theleaders of capital and industry, not onlyin this country, but everywhere. They feltthat the immediate future was secure,and that trade and commerce might

safely push forward in every field ofeffort and enterprise.

He felt that the harvest time wascome, to garner in the fruits of so muchplanting and culture, and he wasdetermined that nothing he might do orsay should be liable to the reproach of apersonal interest. Let us say frankly hewas a party man; he believed thepolicies advocated by him and hisfriends counted for much in the country'sprogress and prosperity. He hoped in hissecond term to accomplish substantialresults in the development andaffirmation of those policies. I spent aday with him shortly before he started onhis fateful journey to Buffalo. Never hadI seen him higher in hope and patriotic

confidence. He was gratified to the heartthat we had arranged a treaty which gaveus a free hand in the Isthmus. In fancy hesaw the canal already built and theargosies of the world passing through itin peace and amity. He saw in theimmense evolution of American tradethe fulfilment of all his dreams, thereward of all his labors. He was, I neednot say, an ardent protectionist, nevermore sincere and devoted than duringthose last days of his life. He regardedreciprocity as the bulwark of protection—not a breach, but a fulfilment of thelaw. The treaties which for four yearshad been preparing under his personalsupervision he regarded as ancillary tothe general scheme. He was opposed to

any revolutionary plan of change in theexisting legislation; he was careful topoint out that everything he had donewas in faithful compliance with the lawitself.

In that mood of high hope, of generousexpectation, he went to Buffalo, andthere, on the threshold of eternity, hedelivered that memorable speech,worthy for its loftiness of tone, itsblameless morality, its breadth of view,to be regarded as his testament to thenation. Through all his pride of countryand his joy of its success runs the note ofsolemn warning, as in Kipling's noblehymn, "Lest We Forget."

The next day sped the bolt of doom,and for a week after—in an agony of

dread, broken by illusive glimpses ofhope that our prayers might be answered—the nation waited for the end. Nothingin the glorious life we saw graduallywaning was more admirable andexemplary than its close. The gentlehumanity of his words when he saw hisassailant in danger of summaryvengeance, "Do not let them hurt him;"his chivalrous care that the news shouldbe broken gently to his wife; the finecourtesy with which he apologized forthe damage which his death would bringto the great Exhibition; and the heroicresignation of his final words, "It isGod's way; His will, not ours, be done,"were all the instinctive expressions of anature so lofty and so pure that pride in

its nobility at once softened andenhanced the nation's sense of loss. TheRepublic grieved over such a son,—butis proud forever of having producedhim. After all, in spite of its tragicending, his life was extraordinarilyhappy. He had, all his days, troops offriends, the cheer of fame and fruitfullabor; and he became at last,

"On fortune's crowning slope,The pillar of a people's hope,The center of a world's desire."

WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYANTHE PRINCE OF PEACE[39]

(1894)I offer no apology for speaking upon a

religious theme, for it is the mostuniversal of all themes. I am interestedin the science of government, but I aminterested more in religion than ingovernment. I enjoy making a politicalspeech—I have made a good many andshall make more—but I would ratherspeak on religion than on politics. Icommenced speaking on the stump whenI was only twenty, but I commencedspeaking in the church six years earlier—and I shall be in the church even afterI am put of politics. I feel sure of myground when I make a political speech,but I feel even more certain of myground when I make a religious speech.If I addrest you upon the subject of law Imight interest the lawyers; if I discust the

science of medicine I might interest thephysicians; in like manner merchantsmight be interested in comments oncommerce, and farmers in matterspertaining to agriculture; but no one ofthese subjects appeals to all. Even thescience of government, tho broader thanany profession or occupation, does notembrace the whole sum of life, and thosewho think upon it differ so amongthemselves that I could not speak uponthe subject so as to please a part of theaudience without displeasing others.While to me the science of governmentis intensely absorbing, I recognize thatthe most important things in life lieoutside of the realm of government andthat more depends upon what the

individual does for himself than uponwhat the government does or can do forhim. Men can be miserable under thebest government and they can be happyunder the worst government.

Government affects but a part of thelife which we live here and does notdeal at all with the life beyond, whilereligion touches the infinite circle ofexistence as well as the small arc of thatcircle which we spend on earth. Nogreater theme, therefore, can engage ourattention. If I discuss questions ofgovernment I must secure thecoöperation of a majority before I canput my ideas into practise, but if, inspeaking on religion, I can touch onehuman heart for good, I have not spoken

in vain no matter how large the majoritymay be against me.

Man is a religious being; the heartinstinctively seeks for a God. Whetherhe worships on the banks of the Ganges,prays with his face upturned to the sun,kneels toward Mecca or, regarding allspace as a temple, communes with theHeavenly Father according to theChristian creed, man is essentiallydevout.

There are honest doubters whosesincerity we recognize and respect, butoccasionally I find young men who thinkit smart to be skeptical; they talk as if itwere an evidence of larger intelligenceto scoff at creeds and to refuse toconnect themselves with churches. They

call themselves "Liberal," as if aChristian were narrow minded. Some goso far as to assert that the "advancedthought of the world" has discarded theidea that there is a God. To these youngmen I desire to address myself.

Even some older people profess toregard religion as a superstition,pardonable in the ignorant but unworthyof the educated. Those who hold thisview look down with mild contemptupon such as give to religion a definiteplace in their thoughts and lives. Theyassume an intellectual superiority andoften take little pains to conceal theassumption. Tolstoy administers to the"cultured crowd" (the words quoted arehis) a severe rebuke when he declares

that the religious sentiment rests notupon a superstitious fear of the invisibleforces of nature, but upon man'sconsciousness of his finiteness amid aninfinite universe and of his sinfulness;and this consciousness, the greatphilosopher adds, man can neveroutgrow. Tolstoy is right; manrecognizes how limited are his ownpowers and how vast is the universe,and he leans upon the armthat is stronger than his. Man feels theweight of his sins and looks for One whois sinless.

Religion has been defined by Tolstoyas the relation which man fixes betweenhimself and his God, and morality as theoutward manifestation of this inward

relation. Every one, by the time hereaches maturity, has fixt some relationbetween himself and God and nomaterial change in this relation cantake place without a revolution in theman, for this relation is the most potentinfluence that acts upon a human life.

Religion is the foundation of moralityin the individual and in the group ofindividuals. Materialists have attemptedto build up a system of morality upon thebasis of enlightened self-interest. Theywould have man figure out bymathematics that it pays him to abstainfrom wrong-doing; they would eveninject an element of selfishness intoaltruism, but the moral systemelaborated by the materialists has

several defects. First, its virtues areborrowed from moral systems basedupon religion. All those who areintelligent enough to discuss a system ofmorality are so saturated with the moralsderived from systems resting uponreligion that they cannot frame a systemresting upon reason alone. Second, as itrests upon argument rather than uponauthority, the young are not in a positionto accept or reject. Our laws do notpermit a young man to dispose of realestate until he is twenty-one. Why thisrestraint? Because his reason is notmature; and yet a man's life is largelymoulded by the environment of his youth.Third, one never knows just how muchof his decision is due to reason and how

much is due to passion or to selfishinterest. Passion can dethrone the reason—we recognize this in our criminallaws. We also recognize the bias of self-interest when we exclude from the juryevery man, no matter how reasonable orupright he may be, who has a pecuniaryinterest in the result of the trial. And,fourth, one whose morality rests upon anice calculation of benefits to be securedspends time figuring that he should spendin action. Those who keep a bookaccount of their good deeds seldom doenough good to justify keeping books. Anoble life cannot be built upon anarithmetic; it must be rather like thespring that pours forth constantly of thatwhich refreshes and invigorates.

Morality is the power of endurance inman; and a religion which teachespersonal responsibility to God givesstrength to morality. There is a powerfulrestraining influence in the belief that anall-seeing eye scrutinizes every thoughtand word and act of the individual.

There is wide difference between theman who is trying to conform his life toa standard of morality about him and theman who seeks to make his lifeapproximate to a divine standard. Theformer attempts to live up to thestandard, if it is above him, and down toit, if it is below him—and if he is doingright only when others are looking he issure to find a time when he thinks he isunobserved, and then he takes a vacation

and falls. One needs the inner strengthwhich comes with the consciouspresence of a personal God. If thosewho are thus fortified sometimes yield totemptation, how helpless and hopelessmust those be who rely upon their ownstrength alone!

There are difficulties to beencountered in religion, but there aredifficulties to be encounteredeverywhere. If Christians sometimeshave doubts and fears, unbelievers havemore doubts and greater fears. I passedthrough a period of skepticism when Iwas in college and I have been glad eversince that I became a member of thechurch before I left home for college, forit helped me during those trying days.

And the college days cover thedangerous period in the young man's life;he is just coming into possession of hispowers, and feels stronger than he everfeels afterward—and he thinks he knowsmore than he ever does know.

It was at this period that I becameconfused by the different theories ofcreation. But I examined these theoriesand found that they all assumedsomething to begin with. You can testthis for yourselves. The nebularhypothesis, for instance, assumes thatmatter and force existed—matter inparticles infinitely fine and each particleseparated from every other particle byspace infinitely great. Beginning withthis assumption, force working on matter

—according to this hypothesis—createda universe. Well, I have a right toassume, and I prefer to assume, aDesigner back of the design—a Creatorback of the creation; and no matter howlong you draw out the process ofcreation, so long as God stands back ofit you cannot shake my faith in Jehovah.In Genesis it is written that, in thebeginning, God created the heavens andthe earth, and I can stand on thatproposition until I find some theory ofcreation that goes farther back than "thebeginning." We must begin withsomething—we must start somewhere—and the Christian begins with God.

I do not carry the doctrine ofevolution as far as some do; I am not yet

convinced that man is a linealdescendant of the lower animals. I donot mean to find fault with you if youwant to accept the theory; all I mean tosay is that while you may trace yourancestry back to the monkey if you findpleasure or pride in doing so, you shallnot connect me with your family treewithout more evidence than has yet beenproduced. I object to the theory forseveral reasons. First, it is a dangeroustheory. If a man links himself ingenerations with the monkey, it thenbecomes an important question whetherhe is going toward him or coming fromhim—and I have seen them going in bothdirections. I do not know of anyargument that can be used to prove that

man is an improved monkey that may notbe used just as well to prove that themonkey is a degenerate man, and thelatter theory is more plausible than theformer.

It is true that man, in some physicalcharacteristics resembles the beast, butman has a mind as well as a body, and asoul as well as a mind. The mind isgreater than the body and the soul isgreater than the mind, and I object tohaving man's pedigree traced on one-third of him only—and that the lowestthird. Fairbairn, in his "Philosophy ofChristianity," lays down a soundproposition when he says that it is notsufficient to explain man as an animal;that it is necessary to explain man in

history—and the Darwinian theory doesnot do this. The ape, according to thistheory, is older than man and yet the apeis still an ape while man is the author ofthe marvelous civilization which we seeabout us.

One does not escape from mystery,however, by accepting this theory, for itdoes not explain the origin of life. Whenthe follower of Darwin has traced thegerm of life back to the lowest form inwhich it appears—and to follow himone must exercise more faith thanreligion calls for—he finds thatscientists differ. Those who reject theidea of creation are divided into twoschools, some believing that the firstgerm of life came from another planet

and others holding that it was the resultof spontaneous generation. Each schoolanswers the arguments advanced by theother, and as they cannot agree with eachother, I am not compelled to agree witheither.

If I were compelled to accept one ofthese theories I would prefer the first,for if we can chase the germ of life offthis planet and get it out into space wecan guess the rest of the way and no onecan contradict us, but if we accept thedoctrine of spontaneous generation wecannot explain why spontaneousgeneration ceased to act after the firstgerm was created.

Go back as far as we may, we cannotescape from the creative act, and it is

just as easy for me to believe that Godcreated man as he is as to believe that,millions of years ago, He created a germof life and endowed it with power todevelop into all that we see to-day. Iobject to the Darwinian theory, untilmore conclusive proof is produced,because I fear we shall lose theconsciousness of God's presence in ourdaily life, if we must accept the theorythat through all the ages no spiritualforce has touched the life of man orshaped the destiny of nations.

But there is another objection. TheDarwinian theory represents man asreaching his present perfection by theoperation of the law of hate—themerciless law by which the strong

crowd out and kill off the weak. If this isthe law of our development then, if thereis any logic that can bind the humanmind, we shall turn backward toward thebeast in proportion as we substitute thelaw of love. I prefer to believe that loverather than hatred is the law ofdevelopment. How can hatred be the lawof development when nations haveadvanced in proportion as they havedeparted from that law and adopted thelaw of love?

But, I repeat, while I do not accept theDarwinian theory I shall not quarrel withyou about it; I only refer to it to remindyou that it does not solve the mystery oflife or explain human progress. I fearthat some have accepted it in the hope of

escaping from the miracle, but whyshould the miracle frighten us? And yet Iam inclined to think that it is one of thetest questions with the Christian.

Christ cannot be separated from themiraculous; His birth, His ministrations,and His resurrection, all involve themiraculous, and the change which Hisreligion works in the human heart is acontinuing miracle. Eliminate themiracles and Christ becomes merely ahuman being and His gospel is stript ofdivine authority.

The miracle raises two questions:"Can God perform a miracle?" and,"Would He want to?" The first is easy toanswer. A God who can make a worldcan do anything He wants to do with it.

The power to perform miracles isnecessarily implied in the power tocreate. But would God want to performa miracle?—this is the question whichhas given most of the trouble. The more Ihave considered it the less inclined I amto answer in the negative. To say thatGod would not perform a miracle is toassume a more intimate knowledge ofGod's plans and purposes than I canclaim to have. I will not deny that Goddoes perform a miracle or may performone merely because I do not know howor why He does it. I find it so difficult todecide each day what God wants donenow that I am not presumptuous enoughto attempt to declare what God mighthave wanted to do thousands of years

ago. The fact that we are constantlylearning of the existence of new forcessuggests the possibility that God mayoperate through forces yet unknown tous, and the mysteries with which wedeal every day warn me that faith is asnecessary as sight. Who would havecredited a century ago the stories that arenow told of the wonder-workingelectricity? For ages man had known thelightning, but only to fear it; now, thisinvisible current is generated by a man-made machine, imprisoned in a man-made wire and made to do the bidding ofman. We are even able to dispense withthe wire and hurl words through space,and the X-ray has enabled us to lookthrough substances which were

supposed, until recently, to exclude alllight. The miracle is not more mysteriousthan many of the things with which mannow deals—it is simply different. Themiraculous birth of Christ is not moremysterious than any other conception—itis simply unlike it; nor is theresurrection of Christ more mysteriousthan the myriad resurrections whichmark each annual seed-time.

It is sometimes said that God couldnot suspend one of His laws withoutstopping the universe, but do we notsuspend or overcome the law ofgravitation every day? Every time wemove a foot or lift a weight wetemporarily overcome one of the mostuniversal of natural laws and yet the

world is not disturbed.Science has taught us so many things

that we are tempted to conclude that weknow everything, but there is really agreat unknown which is still unexploredand that which we have learned ought toincrease our reverence rather than ouregotism. Science has disclosed some ofthe machinery of the universe, butscience has not yet revealed to us thegreat secret—the secret of life. It is to befound in every blade of grass, in everyinsect, in every bird and in every animal,as well as in man. Six thousand years ofrecorded history and yet we know nomore about the secret of life than theyknew in the beginning. We live, we plan;we have our hopes, our fears; and yet in

a moment a change may come overanyone of us and this body will becomea mass of lifeless clay. What is it that,having, we live, and having not, we areas the clod? The progress of the race andthe civilization which we now beholdare the work of men and women whohave not yet solved the mystery of theirown lives.

And our food, must we understand itbefore we eat it? If we refused to eatanything until we could understand themystery of its growth, we would die ofstarvation. But mystery does not botherus in the dining-room; it is only in thechurch that it is a stumbling block.

I was eating a piece of watermelonsome months ago and was struck with its

beauty. I took some of the seeds anddried them and weighed them, and foundthat it would require some five thousandseeds to weigh a pound; and then Iapplied mathematics to that forty-poundmelon. One of these seeds, put into theground, when warmed by the sun andmoistened by the rain, takes off its coatand goes to work; it gathers fromsomewhere two hundred thousand timesits own weight, and forcing this rawmaterial through a tiny stem, constructs awatermelon. It ornaments the outsidewith a covering of green; inside thegreen it puts a layer of white, and withinthe white a core of red, and all throughthe red it scatters seeds, each onecapable of continuing the work of

reproduction. Where does that little seedget its tremendous power? Where does itfind its coloring matter? How does itcollect its flavoring extract? How doesit build a watermelon? Until you canexplain a watermelon, do not be too surethat you can set limits to the power of theAlmighty and say just what He would door how He would do it. I cannot explainthe watermelon, but I eat it and enjoy it.

The egg is the most universal of foodsand its use dates from the beginning, butwhat is more mysterious than an egg?When an egg is fresh it is an importantarticle of merchandise; a hen can destroyits market value in a week's time, but intwo weeks more she can bring forth fromit what man could not find in it. We eat

eggs, but we cannot explain an egg.Water has been used from the birth of

man; we learned after it had been usedfor ages that it is merely a mixture ofgases, but it is far more important thatwe have water to drink than that weknow that it is not water.

Everything that grows tells a likestory of infinite power. Why should Ideny that a divine hand fed a multitudewith a few loaves and fishes when I seehundreds of millions fed every year by ahand which converts the seeds scatteredover the field into an abundant harvest?We know that food can be multiplied ina few months' time; shall we deny thepower of the Creator to eliminate theelement of time, when we have gone so

far in eliminating the element of space?Who am I that I should attempt tomeasure the arm of the Almighty with mypuny arm, or to measure the brain of theInfinite with my finite mind? Who am Ithat I should attempt to put metes andbounds to the power of the Creator?

But there is something even morewonderful still—the mysterious changethat takes place in the human heart whenthe man begins to hate the things heloved and to love the things he hated—the marvelous transformation that takesplace in the man who, before the change,would have sacrificed a world for hisown advancement but who, after thechange, would give his life for aprinciple and esteem it a privilege to

make sacrifice for his convictions! Whatgreater miracle than this, that converts aselfish, self-centered human being into acenter from which good influences flowout in every direction! And yet thismiracle has been wrought in the heart ofeach one of us—or may be wrought—and we have seen it wrought in thehearts and lives of those about us. No,living a life that is a mystery, and livingin the midst of mystery and miracles, Ishall not allow either to deprive me ofthe benefits of the Christian religion. Ifyou ask me if I understand everything inthe Bible, I answer, no, but if we will tryto live up to what we do understand, wewill be kept so busy doing good that wewill not have time to worry about the

passages which we do not understand.Some of those who question the

miracle also question the theory ofatonement; they assert that it does notaccord with their idea of justice for oneto die for all. Let each one bear his ownsins and the punishments due for them,they say. The doctrine of vicarioussuffering is not a new one; it is as old asthe race. That one should suffer forothers is one of the most familiar ofprinciples and we see the principleillustrated every day of our lives. Takethe family, for instance; from the day themother's first child is born, for twenty orthirty years her children are scarcely outof her waking thoughts. Her life tremblesin the balance at each child's birth; she

sacrifices for them, she surrendersherself to them. Is it because she expectsthem to pay her back? Fortunate for theparent and fortunate for the child if thelatter has an opportunity to repay in partthe debt it owes. But no child cancompensate a parent for a parent's care.In the course of nature the debt is paid,not to the parent, but to the nextgeneration, and the next—eachgeneration suffering, sacrificing for andsurrendering itself to the generation thatfollows. This is the law of our lives.

Nor is this confined to the family.Every step in civilization has been madepossible by those who have been willingto sacrifice for posterity. Freedom ofspeech, freedom of the press, freedom of

conscience and free government have allbeen won for the world by those whowere willing to labor unselfishly fortheir fellows. So well established is thisdoctrine that we do not regard anyone asgreat unless he recognizes howunimportant his life is in comparisonwith the problems with which he deals.

I find proof that man was made in theimage of his Creator in the fact that,throughout the centuries, man has beenwilling to die, if necessary, thatblessings denied to him might beenjoyed by his children, his children'schildren and the world.

The seeming paradox: "He that savethhis life shall lose it and he that loseth hislife for my sake shall find it," has an

application wider than that usually givento it; it is an epitome of history. Thosewho live only for themselves live littlelives, but those who stand ready to givethemselves for the advancement of thingsgreater than themselves find a larger lifethan the one they would havesurrendered. Wendell Phillips gaveexpression to the same idea when hesaid, "What imprudent men thebenefactors of the race have been. Howprudently most men sink into namelessgraves, while now and then afew forget themselves into immortality."We win immortality, not byremembering ourselves, but by forgettingourselves in devotion to things largerthan ourselves.

Instead of being an unnatural plan, theplan of salvation is in perfect harmonywith human nature as we understand it.Sacrifice is the language of love, andChrist, in suffering for the world,adopted the only means of reaching theheart. This can be demonstrated not onlyby theory but by experience, for the storyof His life, His teachings, His sufferingsand His death has been translated intoevery language and everywhere it hastouched the heart.

But if I were going to present anargument in favor of the divinity ofChrist, I would not begin with miraclesor mystery or with the theory ofatonement. I would begin as CarnegieSimpson does in his book entitled, "The

Fact of Christ." Commencing with theundisputed fact that Christ lived, hepoints out that one cannot contemplatethis fact without feeling that in some wayit is related to those now living. He saysthat one can read of Alexander, of Cæsaror of Napoleon, and not feel that it is amatter of personal concern; but thatwhen one reads that Christ lived, andhow He lived and how He died, he feelsthat somehow there is a cord thatstretches from that life to his. As hestudies the character of Christ hebecomes conscious of certain virtueswhich stand out in bold relief—Hispurity, His forgiving spirit, and Hisunfathomable love. The author iscorrect, Christ presents an example of

purity in thought and life, and man,conscious of his own imperfections andgrieved over his shortcomings, findsinspiration in the fact that He wastempted in all points like as we are, andyet without sin. I am not sure but thateach can find just here a way ofdetermining for himself whether hepossesses the true spirit of a Christian. Ifthe sinlessness of Christ inspires withinhim an earnest desire to conform his lifemore nearly to the perfect example, he isindeed a follower; if, on the other hand,he resents the reproof which the purity ofChrist offers, and refuses to mend hisways, he has yet to be born again.

The most difficult of all the virtues tocultivate is the forgiving spirit. Revenge

seems to be natural with man; it is humanto want to get even with an enemy. It haseven been popular to boast ofvindictiveness; it was once inscribed ona man's monument that he had repaidboth friends and enemies more than hehad received. This was not the spirit ofChrist. He taught forgiveness and in thatincomparable prayer which He left asmodel for our petitions, He made ourwillingness to forgive the measure bywhich we may claim forgiveness. He notonly taught forgiveness but Heexemplified His teachings in His life.When those who persecuted Him broughtHim to the most disgraceful of alldeaths, His spirit of forgiveness roseabove His sufferings and He prayed,

"Father, forgive them, for they know notwhat they do!"

But love is the foundation of Christ'screed. The world had known lovebefore; parents had loved their children,and children their parents; husbands hadloved their wives, and wives theirhusbands; and friend had loved friend;but Jesus gave a new definition of love.His love was as wide as the sea; itslimits were so far-flung that even anenemy could not travel beyond itsbounds. Other teachers sought to regulatethe lives of their followers by rule andformula, but Christ's plan was to purifythe heart and then to leave love to directthe footsteps.

What conclusion is to be drawn from

the life, the teachings and the death ofthis historic figure? Reared in acarpenter shop; with no knowledge ofliterature, save Bible literature; with noacquaintance with philosophers living orwith the writings of sages dead, whenonly about thirty years old He gathereddisciples about Him, promulgated ahigher code of morals than the world hadever known before, and proclaimedHimself the Messiah. He taught andperformed miracles for a few briefmonths and then was crucified; Hisdisciples were scattered and many ofthem put to death; His claims weredisputed, His resurrection denied andHis followers persecuted; and yet fromthis beginning His religion spread until

hundreds of millions have taken Hisname with reverence upon their lips andmillions have been willing to die ratherthan surrender the faith which He putinto their hearts. How shall we accountfor Him? Here is the greatest fact ofhistory; here is One who has withincreasing power, for nineteen hundredyears, moulded the hearts, the thoughtsand the lives of men, and He exerts moreinfluence to-day than ever before. "Whatthink ye of Christ?" It is easier tobelieve Him divine than to explain inany other way what he said and did andwas. And I have greater faith, even thanbefore, since I have visited the Orientand witnessed the successful contestwhich Christianity is waging against the

religions and philosophies of the East.I was thinking a few years ago of the

Christmas which was then approachingand of Him in whose honor the day iscelebrated. I recalled the message,"Peace on earth, good will to men," andthen my thoughts ran back to theprophecy uttered centuries before Hisbirth, in which He was described as thePrince of Peace. To reinforce mymemory I re-read the prophecy and Ifound immediately following a versewhich I had forgotten—a verse whichdeclares that of the increase of Hispeace and government there shall be noend, And, Isaiah adds, that He shalljudge His people with justice and withjudgment. I had been reading of the rise

and fall of nations, and occasionally Ihad met a gloomy philosopher whopreached the doctrine that nations, likeindividuals, must of necessity have theirbirth, their infancy, their maturity andfinally their decay and death. But here Iread of a government that is to beperpetual—a government of increasingpeace and blessedness—the governmentof the Prince of Peace—and it is to reston justice. I have thought of thisprophecy many times during the last fewyears, and I have selected this theme thatI might present some of the reasonswhich lead me to believe that Christ hasfully earned the right to be called ThePrince of Peace—a title that will in theyears to come be more and more applied

to Him. If he can bring peace to eachindividual heart, and if His creed whenapplied will bring peace throughout theearth, who will deny His right to becalled the Prince of Peace?

All the world is in search of peace;every heart that ever beat has sought forpeace, and many have been the methodsemployed to secure it. Some havethought to purchase it with riches andhave labored to secure wealth, hoping tofind peace when they were able to gowhere they pleased and buy what theyliked. Of those who have endeavored topurchase peace with money, the largemajority have failed to secure themoney. But what has been the experienceof those who have been eminently

successful in finance? They all tell thesame story, viz., that they spent the firsthalf of their lives trying to get moneyfrom others and the last half trying tokeep others from getting their money,and that they found peace in neither half.Some have even reached the point wherethey find difficulty in getting people toaccept their money; and I know of nobetter indication of the ethicalawakening in this country than theincreasing tendency to scrutinize themethods of money-making. I am sanguineenough tobelieve that the time will yetcome when respectability will no longerbe sold to great criminals by helpingthem to spend their ill-gotten gains. Along step in advance will have been

taken when religious, educational andcharitable institutions refuse to condoneconscienceless methods in business andleave the possessor of illegitimateaccumulations to learn how lonely life iswhen one prefers money to morals.

Some have sought peace in socialdistinction, but whether they have beenwithin the charmed circle and fearfullest they might fall out, or outside, andhopeful that they might get in, they havenot found peace. Some have thought,vain thought, to find peace in politicalprominence; but whether office comesby birth, as in monarchies, or byelection, as in republics, it does notbring peace. An office is not considereda high one if all can occupy it. Only

when few in a generation can hope toenjoy an honor do we call it a greathonor. I am glad that our HeavenlyFather did not make the peace of thehuman heart to depend upon our abilityto buy it with money, secure it in society,or win it at the polls, for in either casebut few could have obtained it, but whenHe made peace the reward of aconscience void of offense toward Godand man, He put it within the reach ofall. The poor can secure it as easily asthe rich, the social outcasts as freely asthe leader of society, and the humblestcitizen equally with those who wieldpolitical power.

To those who have grown gray in theChurch, I need not speak of the peace to

be found in faith in God and trust in anoverruling Providence. Christ taught thatour lives are precious in the sight ofGod, and poets have taken up the thoughtand woven it into immortal verse. Nouninspired writer has exprest it morebeautifully than William Cullen Bryantin his Ode to a Waterfowl. Afterfollowing the wanderings of the bird ofpassage as it seeks first its southern andthen its northern home, he concludes:

Thou art gone; the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form,but on my heartDeeply hath sunk the lesson thouhast given, And shall not soon depart.

He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundlesssky thy certain flight,In the long way that I must treadalone, Will lead my steps aright.

Christ promoted peace by giving usassurance that a line of communicationcan be established between the Fatherabove and the child below. And whowill measure the consolations of thehour of prayer?

And immortality! Who will estimatethe peace which a belief in a future lifehas brought to the sorrowing hearts ofthe sons of men? You may talk to the

young about death ending all, for life isfull and hope is strong, but preach notthis doctrine to the mother who stands bythe death-bed of her babe or to one whois within the shadow of a greataffliction. When I was a young man Iwrote to Colonel Ingersoll and askedhim for his views on God andimmortality. His secretary answered thatthe great infidel was not at home, butenclosed a copy of a speech of Col.Ingersoll's which covered my question. Iscanned it with eagerness and found thathe had exprest himself about as follows:"I do not say that there is no God, Isimply say I do not know. I do not saythat there is no life beyond the grave, Isimply say I do not know." And from that

day to this I have asked myself thequestion and have been unable to answerit to my own satisfaction, how couldanyone find pleasure in taking from ahuman heart a living faith andsubstituting therefor the cold andcheerless doctrine, "I do not know."

Christ gave us proof of immortalityand it was a welcome assurance, altho itwould hardly seem necessary that oneshould rise from the dead to convince usthat the grave is not the end. To everycreated thing God has given a tongue thatproclaims a future life.

If the Father deigns to touch withdivine power the cold and pulselessheart of the buried acorn and to make itburst forth from its prison walls, will he

leave neglected in the earth the soul ofman, made in the image of his Creator?If he stoops to give to the rose bush,whose withered blossoms float upon theautumn breeze, the sweet assurance ofanother springtime, will He refuse thewords of hope to the sons of men whenthe frosts of winter come? If matter, muteand inanimate, tho changed by the forcesof nature into a multitude of forms, cannever die, will the imperial spirit of mansuffer annihilation when it has paid abrief visit like a royal guest to thistenement of clay? No, I am sure that Hewho, notwithstanding his apparentprodigality, created nothing without apurpose, and wasted not a single atom inall his creation, has made provision for

a future life in which man's universallonging for immortality will find itsrealization. I am as sure that we liveagain as I am sure that we live to-day.

In Cairo I secured a few grains ofwheat that had slumbered for more thanthirty centuries in an Egyptian tomb. As Ilooked at them this thought came into mymind: If one of those grains had beenplanted on the banks of the Nile the yearafter it grew, and all its linealdescendants had been planted andreplanted from that time until now, itsprogeny would to-day be sufficientlynumerous to feed the teeming millions ofthe world. An unbroken chain of lifeconnects the earliest grains of wheatwith the grains that we sow and reap.

There is in the grain of wheat aninvisible something which has power todiscard the body that we see, and fromearth and air fashion a new body somuch like the old one that we cannot tellthe one from the other. If this invisiblegerm of life in the grain of wheat canthus pass unimpaired through threethousand resurrections, I shall not doubtthat my soul has power to clothe itselfwith a body suited to its new existencewhen this earthly frame has crumbledinto dust.

A belief in immortality not onlyconsoles the individual, but it exerts apowerful influence in bringing peacebetween individuals. If one actuallythinks that man dies as the brute dies, he

will yield more easily to the temptationto do injustice to his neighbor when thecircumstances are such as to promisesecurity from detection. But if one reallyexpects to meet again, and live eternallywith, those whom he knows to-day, he isrestrained from evil deeds by the fear ofendless remorse. We do not know whatrewards are in store for us or whatpunishments may be reserved, but ifthere were no other it would be somepunishment for one who deliberately andconsciously wrongs another to have tolive forever in the company of theperson wronged and have his littlenessand selfishness laid bare. I repeat, abelief in immortality must exert apowerful influence in establishing

justice between men and thus laying thefoundation for peace.

Again, Christ deserves to be calledThe Prince of Peace because He hasgiven us a measure of greatness whichpromotes peace. When His disciplesquarreled among themselves as to whichshould be greatest in the Kingdom ofHeaven, He rebuked them and said: "Lethim who would be chiefest among yoube the servant of all." Service is themeasure of greatness; it always has beentrue; it is true to-day, and it always willbe true, that he is greatest who does themost of good. And how this old worldwill be transformed when this standardof greatness becomes the standard ofevery life! Nearly all of our

controversies and combats grow out ofthe fact that we are trying to getsomething from each other—there willbe peace when our aim is to dosomething for each other. Our enmitiesand animosities arise largely from ourefforts to get as much as possible out ofthe world—there will be peace whenour endeavor is to put as much aspossible into the world. The humanmeasure of a human life is its income;the divine measure of a life is its outgo,its overflow—its contribution to thewelfare of all.

Christ also led the way to peace bygiving us a formula for the propagationof truth. Not all of those who have reallydesired to do good have employed the

Christian method—not all Christianseven. In the history of the human race buttwo methods have been used. The first isthe forcible method, and it has beenemployed most frequently. A man has anidea which he thinks is good; he tells hisneighbors about it and they do not likeit. This makes him angry; he thinks itwould be so much better for them if theywould like it, and, seizing a club, heattempts to make them like it. But onetrouble about this rule is that it worksboth ways; when a man starts out tocompel his neighbors to think as he does,he generally finds them willing to acceptthe challenge and they spend so muchtime in trying to coerce each other thatthey have no time left to do each other

good.The other is the Bible plan—"Be not

overcome of evil but overcome evil withgood." And there is no other way ofovercoming evil. I am not much of afarmer—I get more credit for my farmingthan I deserve, and my little farmreceives more advertising than it isentitled to. But I am farmer enough toknow that if I cut down weeds they willspring up again; and farmer enough toknow that if I plant something therewhich has more vitality than the weeds Ishall not only get rid of the constantcutting, but have the benefit of the cropbesides.

In order that there might be no mistakein His plan of propagating the truth,

Christ went into detail and laid emphasisupon the value of example—"So livethat others seeing your good works maybe constrained to glorify your Fatherwhich is in Heaven." There is no humaninfluence so potent for good as thatwhich goes out from an upright life. Asermon may be answered; the argumentspresented in a speech may be disputed,but no one can answer a Christian life—it is the unanswerable argument in favorof our religion.

It may be a slow process—thisconversion of the world by the silentinfluence of a noble example—but it isthe only sure one, and the doctrineapplies to nations as well as toindividuals. The Gospel of the Prince of

Peace gives us the only hope that theworld has—and it is an increasing hope—of the substitution of reason for thearbitrament of force in the settlement ofinternational disputes. And our nationought not to wait for other nations—itought to take the lead and prove its faithin the omnipotence of truth.

But Christ has given us a platform sofundamental that it can be appliedsuccessfully to all controversies. We areinterested in platforms; we attendconventions, sometimes traveling longdistances; we have wordy wars over thephraseology of various planks, and thenwe wage earnest campaigns to securethe endorsement of these platforms at thepolls. The platform given to the world

by The Prince of Peace is more far-reaching and more comprehensive thanany platform ever written by theconvention of any party in any country.When He condensed into onecommandment those of the ten whichrelate to man's duty toward his fellowsand enjoined upon us the rule, "Thoushalt love thy neighbor as thyself," Hepresented a plan for the solution of allthe problems that now vex society ormay hereafter arise. Other remedies maypalliate or postpone the day ofsettlement, but this is all-sufficient andthe reconciliation which it effects is apermanent one.

My faith in the future—and I havefaith—and my optimism—for I am an

optimist—my faith and my optimism restupon the belief that Christ's teachings arebeing more studied to-day than everbefore, and that with this larger studywill come a larger application of thoseteachings to the everyday life of theworld, and to the questions with whichwe deal. In former times when men readthat Christ came "to bring life andimmortality to light," they placed theemphasis upon immortality; now they arestudying Christ's relation to human life.People used to read the Bible to find outwhat it said of Heaven; now they read itmore to find what light it throws uponthe pathway of to-day. In former yearsmany thought to prepare themselves forfuture bliss by a life of seclusion here;

we are learning that to follow in thefootsteps of the Master we must go aboutdoing good. Christ declared that Hecame that we might have life and have itmore abundantly. The world is learningthat Christ came not to narrow life, butto enlarge it—not to rob it of its joy, butto fill it to overflowing with purpose,earnestness and happiness.

But this Prince of Peace promises notonly peace but strength. Some havethought His teachings fit only for theweak and the timid and unsuited to menof vigor, energy and ambition. Nothingcould be farther from the truth. Only theman of faith can be courageous.Confident that he fights on the side ofJehovah, he doubts not the success of his

cause. What matters it whether he sharesin the shouts of triumph? If every wordspoken in behalf of truth has its influenceand every deed done for the right weighsin the final account, it is immaterial tothe Christian whether his eyes beholdvictory or whether he dies in the midstof the conflict.

"Yea, tho thou lie upon the dust,When they who helped thee flee infear,Die full of hope and manly trust,Like those who fell in battle here. Another hand thy sword shallwield,Another hand the standard wave,

Till from the trumpet's mouth ispealed,The blast of triumph o'er thygrave."

Only those who believe attempt theseemingly impossible, and, byattempting, prove that one, with God,can chase a thousand and that two canput ten thousand to flight. I can imaginethat the early Christians who werecarried into the coliseum to make aspectacle for those more savage than thebeasts, were entreated by their doubtingcompanions not to endanger their lives.But, kneeling in the center of the arena,they prayed and sang until they weredevoured. How helpless they seemed,

and, measured by every human rule, howhopeless was their cause! And yet withina few decades the power which theyinvoked proved mightier than the legionsof the emperor and the faith in whichthey died was triumphant o'er all theland. It is said that those who went tomock at their sufferings returned askingthemselves, "What is it that can enterinto the heart of man and make him dieas these die?" They were greaterconquerors in their death than they couldhave been had they purchased life by asurrender of their faith.

What would have been the fate of thechurch if the early Christians had had aslittle faith as many of our Christians ofto-day? And if the Christians of to-day

had the faith of the martyrs, how longwould it be before the fulfilment of theprophecy that "every knee shall bow andevery tongue confess?"

I am glad that He, who is called thePrince of Peace—who can bring peaceto every troubled heart and whoseteachings, exemplified in life, will bringpeace between man and man, betweencommunity and community, betweenState and State, between nation andnation throughout the world—I am gladthat He brings courage as well as peaceso that those who follow Him may takeup and each day bravely do the dutiesthat to that day fall.

As the Christian grows older heappreciates more and more the

completeness with which Christ satisfiesthe longings of the heart, and, grateful forthe peace which he enjoys and for thestrength which he has received, herepeats the words of the great scholar,Sir William Jones:

"Before thy mystic altar, heavenlytruth, I kneel in manhood, as I knelt inyouth,Thus let me kneel, till this dull formdecay, And life's last shade bebrightened by thy ray."

RUFUS CHOATEEULOGY OF WEBSTER

Delivered at Dartmouth College, July27, 1853.

Webster possessed the element of animpressive character, inspiring regard,trust and admiration, not unmingled withlove. It had, I think, intrinsically a charmsuch as belongs only to a good, noble,and beautiful nature. In its combinationwith so much fame, so much force ofwill, and so much intellect, it filled andfascinated the imagination and heart. Itwas affectionate in childhood and youth,and it was more than ever so in the fewlast months of his long life. It is theuniversal testimony that he gave to hisparents, in largest measure, honor, love,obedience; that he eagerly appropriatedthe first means which he could command

to relieve the father from the debtscontracted to educate his brother andhimself; that he selected his first place ofprofessional practice that he mightsoothe the coming on of his old age.

Equally beautiful was his love of allhis kindred and of all his friends. When Ihear him accused of selfishness, and acold, bad nature, I recall him lyingsleepless all night, not without tears ofboyhood, conferring with Ezekiel howthe darling desire of both hearts shouldbe compassed, and he, too, admitted tothe precious privileges of education;courageously pleading the cause of bothbrothers in the morning; prevailing bythe wise and discerning affection of themother; suspending his studies of the

law, and registering deeds and teachingschool to earn the means, for both, ofavailing themselves of the opportunitywhich the parental self-sacrifice hadplaced within their reach; loving himthrough life, mourning him when dead,with a love and a sorrow verywonderful, passing the sorrow ofwoman; I recall the husband, the fatherof the living and of the early departed,the friend, the counselor of many years,and my heart grows too full and liquidfor the refutation of words.

His affectionate nature, craving everfriendship, as well as the presence ofkindred blood, diffused itself through allhis private life, gave sincerity to all hishospitalities, kindness to his eye,

warmth to the pressure of his hand, madehis greatness and genius unbendthemselves to the playfulness ofchildhood, flowed out in gracefulmemories indulged of the past or thedead, of incidents when life was youngand promised to be happy,—gavegenerous sketches of his rivals,—thehigh contention now hidden by thehandful of earth,—hours passed fiftyyears ago with great authors, recalledfor the vernal emotions which then theymade to live and revel in the soul. Andfrom these conversations of friendship,no man—no man, old or young—wentaway to remember one word ofprofaneness, one allusion of indelicacy,one impure thought, one unbelieving

suggestion, one doubt cast on the realityof virtue, of patriotism, of enthusiasm, ofthe progress of man,—one doubt cast onrighteousness, or temperance, orjudgment to come.

I have learned by evidence the mostdirect and satisfactory that in the lastmonths of his life, the wholeaffectionateness of his nature—hisconsideration of others, his gentleness,his desire to make them happy and to seethem happy—seemed to come out inmore and more beautiful and habitualexpressions than ever before. The longday's public tasks were felt to be done;the cares, the uncertainties, the mentalconflicts of high place, were ended; andhe came home to recover himself for the

few years which he might still expectwould be his before he should go henceto be here no more. And there, I amassured and duly believe, nounbecoming regrets pursued him; nodiscontent, as for injustice suffered orexpectations unfulfilled; no self-reproach for anything done or anythingomitted by himself; no irritation, nopeevishness unworthy of his noblenature; but instead, love and hope for hiscountry, when she became the subject ofconversation, and for all around him, thedearest and most indifferent, for allbreathing things about him, the overflowof the kindest heart growing ingentleness and benevolence—paternal,patriarchal affections, seeming to

become more natural, warm, andcommunicative every hour. Softer andyet brighter grew the tints on the sky ofparting day; and the last lingering rays,more even than the glories of noon,announced how divine was the sourcefrom which they proceeded; howincapable to be quenched; how certain torise on a morning which no night shouldfollow.

Such a character was made to beloved. It was loved. Those who knewand saw it in its hour of calm—thosewho could repose on that soft green—loved him. His plain neighbors lovedhim; and one said, when he was laid inhis grave, "How lonesome the worldseems!" Educated young men loved him.

The ministers of the gospel, the generalintelligence of the country, the massesafar oft, loved him. True, they had notfound in his speeches, read by millions,so much adulation of the people; somuch of the music which robs the publicreason of itself; so many phrases ofhumanity and philanthropy; and somehad told them he was lofty and cold—solitary in his greatness; but every yearthey came nearer and nearer to him, andas they came nearer, they loved himbetter; they heard how tender the son hadbeen, the husband, the brother, the father,the friend, and neighbor; that he wasplain, simple, natural, generous,hospitable—the heart larger than thebrain; that he loved little children and

reverenced God, the Scriptures, theSabbath-day, the Constitution, and thelaw—and their hearts clave unto him.More truly of him than even of the greatnaval darling of England might it be saidthat "his presence would set the churchbells ringing, and give schoolboys aholiday, would bring children fromschool and old men from the chimney-corner, to gaze on him ere he died." Thegreat and unavailing lamentations firstrevealed the deep place he had in thehearts of his countrymen.

You are now to add to this hisextraordinary power of influencing theconvictions of others by speech, and youhave completed the survey of the meansof his greatness. And here, again I begin

by admiring an aggregate made up ofexcellences and triumphs, ordinarilydeemed incompatible. He spoke withconsummate ability to the bench, and yetexactly as, according to every soundcanon of taste and ethics, the bench oughtto be addressed. He spoke withconsummate ability to the jury, and yetexactly as, according to every soundcanon, that totallydifferent tribunal oughtto be addressed. In the halls ofCongress, before the people assembledfor political discussion in masses,before audiences smaller and moreselect, assembled for some solemncommemoration of the past or of thedead—in each of these, again, hisspeech, of the first form of ability, was

exactly adapted, also, to the criticalproperties of the place; each achieved,when delivered, the most instant andspecific success of eloquence—some ofthem in a splendid and remarkabledegree; and yet, stranger still, whenreduced to writing, as they fell from hislips, they compose a body of reading inmany volumes—solid, clear, rich, andfull of harmony—a classical andpermanent political literature.

And yet all these modes of hiseloquence, exactly adapted each to itsstage and its end, were stamped with hisimage and superscription, identified bycharacteristics incapable to becounterfeited and impossible to bemistaken. The same high power of

reason, intent in every one to exploreand display some truth; some truth ofjudicial, or historical, or biographicalfact; some truth of law, deduced byconstruction, perhaps, or by illation;some truth of policy, for want whereof anation, generations, may be the worse—reason seeking and unfolding truth; thesame tone, in all, of deep earnestness,expressive of strong desire that what hefelt to be important should be acceptedas true, and spring up to action; the sametransparent, plain, forcible, and directspeech, conveying his exact thought tothe mind—not something less or more;the same sovereignty of form, of brow,and eye, and tone, and manner—everywhere the intellectual king of men,

standing before you—that samemarvelousness of qualities and results,residing, I know not where, in words, inpictures, in the ordering of ideas,infelicities indescribable, by meanswhereof, coming from his tongue, allthings seemed mended—truth seemedmore true, probability more plausible,greatness more grand, goodness moreawful, every affection more tender thanwhen coming from other tongues—theseare, in all, his eloquence.

But sometimes it becameindividualized and discriminated evenfrom itself; sometimes place andcircumstances, great interests at stake, astage, an audience fitted for the highesthistoric action, a crisis, personal or

national, upon him, stirred the depths ofthat emotional nature, as the anger of thegoddess stirs the sea on which the greatepic is beginning; strong passionsthemselves kindled to intensity,quickened every faculty to a new life;the stimulated associations of ideasbrought all treasures of thought andknowledge within command; the spell,which often held his imagination fast,dissolved, and she arose and gave him tochoose of her urn of gold; earnestnessbecame vehemence, the simple,perspicuous, measured and directlanguage became a headlong, full, andburning tide of speech; the discourseo f reason, wisdom, gravity, and beautychanged to that superhuman, that rarest

consummate eloquence—grand, rapid,pathetic, terrible; the aliquid immensuminfinitumque that Cicero might haverecognized; the master triumph of man inthe rarest opportunity of his noblepower.

Such elevation above himself, incongressional debate, was mostuncommon. Some such there were in thegreat discussions of executive powerfollowing the removal of the deposits,which they who heard them will neverforget, and some which rest in thetradition of hearers only. But there wereother fields of oratory on which, underthe influence of more uncommon springsof inspiration, he exemplified, in stillother forms, an eloquence in which I do

not know that he has had a superioramong men. Addressing masses by tensof thousands in the open air, on theurgent political questions of the day, ordesigned to lead the meditations of anhour devoted to the remembrance ofsome national era, or of some incidentmarking the progress of the nation, andlifting him up to a view of what is, andwhat is past, and some indistinctrevelation of the glory that lies in thefuture, or of some great historical name,just borne by the nation to his tomb—wehave learned that then and there, at thebase of Bunker Hill, before the corner-stone was laid, and again when from thefinished column the centuries looked onhim; in Faneuil Hall, mourning for those

with whose spoken or written eloquenceof freedom its arches had so oftenresounded; on the Rock of Plymouth;before the Capitol, of which there shallnot be one stone left on another beforehis memory shall have ceased to live—in such scenes, unfettered by the laws offorensic or parliamentary debate,multitudes uncounted lifting up their eyesto him; some great historical scenes ofAmerica around; all symbols of herglory and art and power and fortunethere; voices of the past, not unheard;shapes beckoning from the future, notunseen—sometimes that mighty intellect,borne upward to a height and kindled toan illumination which we shall see nomore, wrought out, as it were, in an

instant a picture of vision, warning,prediction; the progress of the nation; thecontrasts of its eras; the heroic deaths;the motives to patriotism; the maximsand arts imperial by which the glory hasbeen gathered and may be heightened—wrought out, in an instant, a picture tofade only when all record of our mindshall die.

In looking over the public remains ofhis oratory, it is striking to remark how,even in that most sober and massiveunderstanding and nature, you seegathered and expressed thecharacteristic sentiments and the passingtime of our America. It is the strong oldoak which ascends before you; yet oursoil, our heaven, are attested in it as

perfectly as if it were a flower thatcould grow in no other climate and in noother hour of the year or day. Let meinstance in one thing only. It is apeculiarity of some schools of eloquencethat they embody and utter, not merelythe individual genius and character ofthe speaker, but a national consciousness—a national era, a mood, a hope, adread, a despair—in which you listen tothe spoken history of the time. There isan eloquence of an expiring nation, suchas seems to sadden the glorious speechof Demosthenes; such as breathes grandand gloomy from visions of the prophetsof the last days of Israel and Judah; suchas gave a spell to the expression ofGrattan and of Kossuth—the sweetest,

most mournful, most awful of the wordswhich man may utter, or which man mayhear—the eloquence of a perishingnation.

There is another eloquence, in whichthe national consciousness of a young orrenewed and vast strength, of trust in adazzling certain and limitless future, aninward glorying in victories yet to bewon, sounds out as by voice of clarion,challenging to contest for the highestprize of earth; such as that in which theleader of Israel in its first days holds upto the new nation the Land of Promise;such as that which in the well-imaginedspeeches scattered by Livy over thehistory of the "majestic series ofvictories" speaks the Roman

consciousness of growingaggrandizement which should subject theworld; such as that through which, at thetribunes of her revolution, in thebulletins of her rising soldiers, Francetold to the world her dream of glory.

And of this kind somewhat is ours—cheerful, hopeful, trusting, as befitsyouth and spring; the eloquence of a statebeginning to ascend to the first class ofpower, eminence, and consideration, andconscious of itself. It is to no purposethat they tell you it is in bad taste; that itpartakes of arrogance and vanity; that atrue national good breeding would notknow, or seem to know, whether thenation is old or young; whether the tidesof being are in their flow or ebb;

whether these coursers of the sun aresinking slowly to rest, wearied with ajourney of a thousand years, or justbounding from the Orient unbreathed.Higher laws than those of tastedetermine the consciousness of nations.Higher laws than those of tastedetermine the general forms of theexpression of that consciousness. Let thedownward age of America find itsorators and poets and artists to erect itsspirit, or grace and soothe its dying; be itours to go up with Webster to the Rock,the Monument, the Capitol, and bid "thedistant generations hail!"

Until the seventh day of March, 1850,I think it would have been accorded tohim by an almost universal acclaim, as

general and as expressive of profoundand intelligent conviction and ofenthusiasm, love, and trust, as eversaluted conspicuous statesmanship, triedby many crises of affairs in a greatnation, agitated ever by parties, andwholly free.

ALBERT J. BEVERIDGEPASS PROSPERITY AROUND

Delivered as Temporary Chairman ofProgressive

National Convention, Chicago, Ill., June,1911.

We stand for a nobler America. Westand for an undivided Nation. We standfor a broader liberty, a fuller justice. Westand for a social brotherhood as againstsavage individualism. We stand for an

intelligent coöperation instead of areckless competition. We stand formutual helpfulness instead of mutualhatred. We stand for equal rights as afact of life instead of a catch-word ofpolitics. We stand for the rule of thepeople as a practical truth instead of ameaningless pretense. We stand for arepresentative government thatrepresents the people. We battle for theactual rights of man.

To carry out our principles we have aplain program of constructive reform.We mean to tear down only that which iswrong and out of date; and where wetear down we mean to build what is rightand fitted to the times. We harken to thecall of the present. We mean to make

laws fit conditions as they are and meetthe needs of the people who are on earthto-day. That we may do this we found aparty through which all who believewith us can work with us; or, rather, wedeclare our allegiance to the party whichthe people themselves have founded.

For this party comes from the grassroots. It has grown from the soil of thepeople's hard necessities. It has thevitality of the people's strongconvictions. The people have work to bedone and our party is here to do thatwork. Abuse will only strengthen it,ridicule only hasten its growth,falsehood only speed its victory. Foryears this party has been forming.Parties exist for the people; not the

people for parties. Yet for years thepoliticians have made the people do thework of the parties instead of the partiesdoing the work of the people—and thepoliticians own the parties. The peoplevote for one party and find their hopesturned to ashes on their lips; and then topunish that party, they vote for the otherparty. So it is that partisan victorieshave come to be merely the people'svengeance; and always the secretpowers have played their game.

Like other free people, most of usAmericans are progressive orreactionary, liberal or conservative. Theneutrals do not count. Yet to-day neitherof the old parties is either whollyprogressive or wholly reactionary.

Democratic politicians and officeseekers say to reactionary Democraticvoters that the Democratic party isreactionary enough to expressreactionary views; and they say toprogressive Democrats that theDemocratic party is progressiveenough to express progressive views. Atthe same time, Republican politiciansand office seekers say the same thingabout the Republican party toprogressive and reactionary Republicanvoters.

Sometimes in both Democratic andRepublican States the progressives getcontrol of the party locally and then thereactionaries recapture the same party inthe same State; or this process is

reversed. So there is no nation-wideunity of principle in either party, nostability of purpose, no clear-cut andsincere program of one party at frankand open war with an equally clear-cutand sincere program of an opposingparty.

This unintelligent tangle is seen inCongress. Republican and DemocraticSenators and Representatives, believingalike on broad measures affecting thewhole Republic, find it hard to votetogether because of the nominaldifference of their party membership.When, sometimes, under resistlessconviction, they do vote together, wehave this foolish spectacle: legislatorscalling themselves Republicans and

Democrats support the same policy, theDemocratic legislators declaring thatthat policy is Democratic andRepublican legislators declaring that itis Republican; and at the very same timeother Democratic and Republicanlegislators oppose that very same policy,each of them declaring that it is notDemocratic or not Republican.

The condition makes it impossiblemost of the time, and hard at any time,for the people's legislators who believein the same broad policies to enact theminto logical, comprehensive laws. Itconfuses the public mind. It breedssuspicion and distrust. It enables suchspecial interests as seek unjust gain atthe public expense to get what they want.

It creates and fosters the degrading bosssystem in American politics throughwhich these special interests work.

This boss system is unknown andimpossible under any other freegovernment in the world. In its verynature it is hostile to general welfare.Yet it has grown until it now is acontrolling influence in American publicaffairs. At the present moment notoriousbosses are in the saddle of both oldparties in various important States whichmust be carried to elect a President. ThisBlack Horse Cavalry is the mostimportant force in the practical work ofthe Democratic and Republican partiesin the present campaign. Neither of theold parties' nominees for President can

escape obligation to these old-partybosses or shake their practical hold onmany and powerful members of theNational Legislature.

Under this boss system, no matterwhich party wins, the people seldomwin; but the bosses almost always win.And they never work for the people.They do not even work for the party towhich they belong. They work only forthose anti-public interests whosepolitical employees they are. It is theseinterests that are the real victors in theend.

These special interests which suck thepeople's substance are bi-partisan. Theyuse both parties. They are the invisiblegovernment behind our visible

government. Democratic and Republicanbosses alike are brother officers of thishidden power. No matter how fiercelythey pretend to fight one another beforeelection, they work together afterelection. And, acting so, this politicalconspiracy is able to delay, mutilate ordefeat sound and needed laws for thepeople's welfare and the prosperity ofhonest business and even to enact badlaws, hurtful to the people's welfare andoppressive to honest business.

It is this invisible government whichis the real danger to Americaninstitutions. Its crude work at Chicago inJune, which the people were able to see,was no more wicked than its skillfulwork everywhere and always which the

people are not able to see.But an even more serious condition

results from the unnatural alignment ofthe old parties. To-day we Americansare politically shattered by sectionalism.Through the two old parties the tragedyof our history is continued; and one greatgeographical part of the Republic isseparated from other parts of theRepublic by an illogical partisansolidarity.

The South has men and women asgenuinely progressive and others asgenuinely reactionary as those in otherparts of our country. Yet, for well-known reasons, these sincere and honestsouthern progressives and reactionariesvote together in a single party, which is

neither progressive nor reactionary.They vote a dead tradition and a localfear, not a living conviction and anational faith. They vote not for theDemocratic party, but against theRepublican party. They want to be freefrom this condition; they can be freefrom it through the National Progressiveparty.

For the problems which Americafaces to-day are economic and national.They have to do with a more justdistribution of prosperity. They concernthe living of the people; and thereforethe more direct government of the peopleby themselves.

They affect the South exactly as theyaffect the North, the East or the West. It

is an artificial and dangerous conditionthat prevents the southern man andwoman from acting with the northernman and woman who believe the samething. Yet just that is what the old partiesdo prevent.

Not only does this out-of-datepartisanship cut our Nation into twogeographical sections; it also robs theNation of a priceless asset of thought inworking out our national destiny. TheSouth once was famous for brilliant andconstructive thinking on nationalproblems, and to-day the South hasminds as brilliant and constructive as ofold. But southern intellect cannot freelyand fully aid, in terms of politics, thesolving of the Nation's problems. This is

so because of a partisan sectionalismwhich has nothing to do with thoseproblems. Yet these problems can besolved only in terms of politics.

The root of the wrongs which hurt thepeople is the fact that the people'sgovernment has been taken away fromthem—the invisible government hasusurped the people's government. Theirgovernment must be given back to thepeople. And so the first purpose of theProgressive party is to make sure therule of the people. The rule of the peoplemeans that the people themselves shallnominate, as well as elect, allcandidates for office, including Senatorsand Presidents of the United States.What profiteth it the people if they do

only the electing while the invisiblegovernment does the nominating?

The rule of the people means thatwhen the people's legislators make alaw which hurts the people, the peoplethemselves may reject it. The rule of thepeople means that when the people'slegislators refuse to pass a law whichthe people need, the people themselvesmay pass it. The rule of the peoplemeans that when the people's employeesdo not do the people's work well andhonestly, the people may discharge themexactly as a business man dischargesemployees who do not do their workwell and honestly. The people's officialsare the people's servants, not thepeople's masters.

We progressives believe in this ruleof the people that the people themselvesmay deal with their own destiny. Whoknows the people's needs so well as thepeople themselves? Who so patient asthe people? Who so long suffering, whoso just? Who so wise to solve their ownproblems?

Today these problems concern theliving of the people. Yet in the presentstage of American development theseproblems should not exist in this country.For, in all the world there is no land sorich as ours. Our fields can feedhundreds of millions. We have moreminerals than the whole of Europe.Invention has made easy the turning ofthis vast natural wealth into supplies for

all the needs of man. One worker todaycan produce more than twenty workerscould produce a century ago.

The people living in this land of goldare the most daring and resourceful onthe globe. Coming from the hardieststock of every nation of the old worldtheir very history in the new world hasmade Americans a peculiar people incourage, initiative, love of justice andall the elements of independentcharacter.

And, compared with other peoples,we are very few in numbers. There areonly ninety millions of us, scattered overa continent. Germany has sixty-fivemillions packed in a country very muchsmaller than Texas. The population of

Great Britain and Ireland could be setdown in California and still have morethan enough room for the population ofHolland. If this country were as thicklypeopled as Belgium there would bemore than twelve hundred millioninstead of only ninety million personswithin our borders.

So we have more than enough tosupply every human being beneath theflag. There ought not to be in thisRepublic a single day of bad business, asingle unemployed workingman, a singleunfed child. American business menshould never know an hour ofuncertainty, discouragement or fear;American workingmen never a day oflow wages, idleness or want. Hunger

should never walk in these thinlypeopled gardens of plenty.

And yet in spite of all these favorswhich providence has showered uponus, the living of the people is theproblem of the hour. Hundreds ofthousands of hard-working Americansfind it difficult to get enough to live on.The average income of an Americanlaborer is less than $500 a year. Withthis he must furnish food, shelter andclothing for a family.

Women, whose nourishing andprotection should be the first care of theState, not only are driven into the mightyarmy of wage-earners, but are forced towork under unfair and degradingconditions. The right of a child to grow

into a normal human being is sacred; andyet, while small and poor countries,packed with people, have abolishedchild labor, American mills, mines,factories and sweat-shops are destroyinghundreds of thousands of Americanchildren in body, mind and soul.

At the same time men have graspedfortunes in this country so great that thehuman mind cannot comprehend theirmagnitude. These mountains of wealthare far larger than even that lavishreward which no one would deny tobusiness risk or genius.

On the other hand, American businessis uncertain and unsteady compared withthe business of other nations. Americanbusiness men are the best and bravest in

the world, and yet our businessconditions hamper their energies andchill their courage. We have nopermanency in business affairs, no sureoutlook upon the business future. Thisunsettled state of American businessprevents it from realizing for the peoplethat great and continuous prosperitywhich our country's location, vast wealthand small population justifies.

We mean to remedy these conditions.We mean not only to make prosperitysteady, but to give to the many who earnit a just share of that prosperity insteadof helping the few who do not earn it totake an unjust share. The progressivemotto is "Pass prosperity around." Tomake human living easier, to free the

hands of honest business, to make tradeand commerce sound and steady, toprotect womanhood, save childhood andrestore the dignity of manhood—theseare the tasks we must do.

What, then, is the progressive answerto these questions? We are able to giveit specifically and concretely. The firstwork before us is the revival of honestbusiness. For business is nothing but theindustrial and trade activities of all thepeople. Men grow the products of thefield, cut ripe timber from the forest, digmetal from the mine, fashion all forhuman use, carry them to the marketplace and exchange them according totheir mutual needs—and this is business.

With our vast advantages, contrasted

with the vast disadvantages of othernations, American business all the timeshould be the best and steadiest in theworld. But it is not. Germany, withshallow soil, no mines, only a windowon the seas and a population more thanten times as dense as ours, yet has asounder business, a steadier prosperity,a more contented because better caredfor people.

What, then, must we do to makeAmerican business better? We must dowhat poorer nations have done. We mustend the abuses of business by strikingdown those abuses instead of strikingdown business itself. We must try tomake little business big and all businesshonest instead of striving to make big

business little and yet letting it remaindishonest.

Present-day business is as unlike old-time business as the old-time ox-cart isunlike the present-day locomotive.Invention has made the whole worldover again. The railroad, telegraph,telephone have bound the people ofmodern nations into families. To do thebusiness of these closely knit millions inevery modern country great businessconcerns came into being. What we callbig business is the child of the economicprogress of mankind. So warfare todestroy big business is foolish because itcan not succeed and wicked because itought not to succeed. Warfare to destroybig business does not hurt big business,

which always comes out on top, so muchas it hurts all other business which, insuch a warfare, never comes out on top.

With the growth of big business camebusiness evils just as great. It is theseevils of big business that hurt the peopleand injure all other business. One ofthese wrongs is over capitalizationwhich taxes the people's very living.Another is the manipulation of prices tothe unsettlement of all normal businessand to the people's damage. Another isinterference in the making of the people'slaws and the running of the people'sgovernment in the unjust interest of evilbusiness. Getting laws that enableparticular interests to rob the people,and even to gather criminal riches from

human health and life is still another.An example of such laws is the

infamous tobacco legislation of 1902,which authorized the Tobacco Trust tocontinue to collect from the people theSpanish War tax, amounting to a score ofmillions of dollars, but to keep that taxinstead of turning it over to thegovernment, as it had been doing.Another example is the shameful meatlegislation, by which the Beef Trust hadthe meat it sent abroad inspected by thegovernment so that foreign countrieswould take its product and yet waspermitted to sell diseased meat to ourown people. It is incredible that lawslike these could ever get on the Nation'sstatute books. The invisible government

put them there; and only the universalwrath of an enraged people correctedthem when, after years, the peoplediscovered the outrages.

It is to get just such laws as these andto prevent the passage of laws to correctthem, as well as to keep off the statutebooks general laws which will end thegeneral abuses of big business that thesefew criminal interests corrupt ourpolitics, invest in public officials andkeep in power in both parties that type ofpoliticians and party managers whodebase American politics.

Behind rotten laws and preventingsound laws, stands the corrupt boss;behind the corrupt boss stands therobber interest; and commanding these

powers of pillage stands bloated humangreed. It is this conspiracy of evil wemust overthrow if we would get thehonest laws we need. It is this invisiblegovernment we must destroy if wewould save American institutions.

Other nations have ended the verysame business evils from which wesuffer by clearly defining businesswrong-doing and then making it acriminal offense, punishable byimprisonment. Yet these foreign nationsencourage big business itself and fosterall honest business. But they do nottolerate dishonest business, little or big.

What, then, shall we Americans do?Common sense and the experience of theworld says that we ought to keep the

good big business does for us and stopthe wrongs that big business does to us.Yet we have done just the other thing.We have struck at big business itself andhave not even aimed to strike at the evilsof big business. Nearly twenty-fiveyears ago Congress passed a law togovern American business in the presenttime which Parliament passed in thereign of King James to govern Englishbusiness in that time.

For a quarter of a century the courtshave tried to make this law work. Yetduring this very time trusts grew greaterin number and power than in the wholehistory of the world before; and theirevils flourished unhindered andunchecked. These great business

concerns grew because natural lawsmade them grow and artificial law atwar with natural law could not stop theirgrowth. But their evils grew faster thanthe trusts themselves because avaricenourished those evils and no law of anykind stopped avarice from nourishingthem.

Nor is this the worst. Under theshifting interpretation of the Shermanlaw, uncertainty and fear is chilling theenergies of the great body of honestAmerican business men. As the Shermanlaw now stands, no two business mencan arrange their mutual affairs and besure that they are not law-breakers. Thisis the main hindrance to the immediateand permanent revival of American

business. If German or English businessmen, with all their disadvantagescompared with our advantages, weremanacled by our Sherman law, as itstands, they soon would be bankrupt.Indeed, foreign business men declarethat, if their countries had such a law, soadministered, they could not do businessat all.

Even this is not all. By the decrees ofour courts, under the Sherman law, thetwo mightiest trusts on earth haveactually been licensed, in the practicaloutcome, to go on doing every wrongthey ever committed. Under the decreesof the courts the Oil and Tobacco Trustsstill can raise prices unjustly andalready have done so. They still can

issue watered stock and surely will doso. They still can throttle other businessmen and the United Cigar StoresCompany now is doing so. They still cancorrupt our politics and this moment areindulging in that practice.

The people are tired of this mockbattle with criminal capital. They do notwant to hurt business, but they do wantto get something done about the trustquestion that amounts to something. Whatgood does it do any man to read in hismorning paper that the courts have"dissolved" the Oil Trust, and then readin his evening paper that he mustthereafter pay a higher price for his oilthan ever before? What good does it dothe laborer who smokes his pipe to be

told that the courts have "dissolved" theTobacco Trust and yet find that he mustpay the same or a higher price for thesame short-weight package of tobacco?Yet all this is the practical result of thesuits against these two greatest trusts inthe world.

Such business chaos and legalparadoxes as American business suffersfrom can be found nowhere else in theworld. Rival nations do not fasten legalball and chain upon their business—no,they put wings on its flying feet. Rivalnations do not tell their business menthat if they go forward with legitimateenterprise the penitentiary may be theirgoal. No! Rival nations tell theirbusiness men that so long as they do

honest business their governments willnot hinder but will help them.

But these rival nations do tell theirbusiness men that if they do any evil thatour business men do, prison bars awaitthem. These rival nations do tell theirbusiness men that if they issue wateredstock or cheat the people in any way,prison cells will be their homes.

Just this is what all honest Americanbusiness wants; just this is whatdishonest American business does notwant; just this is what the Americanpeople propose to have; just this thenational Republican platform of 1908pledged the people that we would givethem; and just this important pledge theadministration, elected on that platform,

repudiated as it repudiated the moreimmediate tariff pledge.

Both these reforms, so vital to honestAmerican business, the Progressiveparty will accomplish. Neither evilinterests nor reckless demagogues canswerve us from our purpose; for we arefree from both and fear neither.

We mean to put new business laws onour statute books which will tellAmerican business men what they can doand what they cannot do. We mean tomake our business laws clear instead offoggy—to make them plainly state justwhat things are criminal and what arelawful. And we mean that the penalty forthings criminal shall be prison sentencesthat actually punish the real offender,

instead of money fines that hurt nobodybut the people, who must pay them in theend.

And then we mean to send themessage forth to hundreds of thousandsof brilliant minds and brave heartsengaged in honest business, that they arenot criminals but honorable men in theirwork to make good business in thisRepublic. Sure of victory, we even nowsay, "Go forward, American businessmen, and know that behind you,supporting you, encouraging you, are thepower and approval of the greatestpeople under the sun. Go forward,American business men, and feed full thefires beneath American furnaces; andgive employment to every American

laborer who asks for work. Go forward,American business men, and capture themarkets of the world for American trade;and know that on the wings of yourcommerce you carry liberty throughoutthe world and to every inhabitantthereof. Go forward, American businessmen, and realize that in the time to comeit shall be said of you, as it is said of thehand that rounded Peter's Dome, 'hebuilded better than he knew.'"

The next great business reform wemust have to steadily increase Americanprosperity is to change the method ofbuilding our tariffs. The tariff must betaken out of politics and treated as abusiness question instead of as apolitical question. Heretofore, we have

done just the other thing. That is whyAmerican business is upset every fewyears by unnecessary tariff upheavalsand is weakened by uncertainty in theperiods between. The greatest need ofbusiness is certainty; but the only thingcertain about our tariff is uncertainty.

What, then, shall we do to make ourtariff changes strengthen business insteadof weakening business? Rival protectivetariff nations have answered thatquestion. Common sense has answeredit. Next to our need to make the Shermanlaw modern, understandable and just,our greatest fiscal need is a genuine,permanent, non-partisan tariffcommission.

Five years ago, when the fight for this

great business measure was begun in theSenate the bosses of both parties wereagainst it. So, when the last revision ofthe tariff was on and a tariff commissionmight have been written into the tarifflaw, the administration would not aidthis reform. When two years later theadministration supported it weakly, thebi-partisan boss system killed it. Therehas not been and will not be any sincereand honest effort by the old parties to geta tariff commission. There has not beenand will not be any sincere and honestpurpose by those parties to take the tariffout of politics.

For the tariff in politics is the excusefor those sham political battles whichgive the spoilers their opportunity. The

tariff in politics is one of the invisiblegovernment's methods of wringingtribute from the people. Through thetariff in politics the beneficiaries oftariff excesses are cared for, no matterwhich party is "revising."

Who has forgotten the tariff scandalsthat made President Cleveland denouncethe Wilson-Gorman bill as "a perfidyand a dishonor?" Who ever can forgetthe brazen robberies forced into thePayne-Aldrich bill which Mr. Taftdefended as "the best ever made?" Ifeveryone else forgets these things theinterests that profited by them never willforget them. The bosses and lobbyiststhat grew rich by putting them throughnever will forget them. That is why the

invisible government and its agents wantto keep the old method of tariff building.For, though such tariff "revisions" maymake lean years for the people, theymake fat years for the powers of pillageand their agents.

So neither of the old parties canhonestly carry out any tariff policieswhich they pledge the people to carryout. But even if they could and even ifthey were sincere, the old partyplatforms are in error on tariff policy.The Democratic platform declares forfree trade; but free trade is wrong andruinous. The Republican platformpermits extortion; but tariff extortion isrobbery by law. The Progressive partyis for honest protection; and honest

protection is right and a condition ofAmerican prosperity.

A tariff high enough to give Americanproducers the American market whenthey make honest goods and sell them athonest prices but low enough that whenthey sell dishonest goods at dishonestprices, foreign competition can correctboth evils; a tariff high enough to enableAmerican producers to pay ourworkingmen American wages and soarranged that the workingmen will getsuch wages; a business tariff whosechanges will be so made as to reassurebusiness instead of disturbing it—this isthe tariff and the method of its making inwhich the Progressive party believes,for which it does battle and which it

proposes to write into the laws of theland.

The Payne-Aldrich tariff law must berevised immediately in accordance tothese principles. At the same time agenuine, permanent, non-partisan tariffcommission must be fixed in the law asfirmly as the Interstate CommerceCommission. Neither of the old partiescan do this work. For neither of the oldparties believes in such a tariff; and,what is more serious, special privilegeis too thoroughly woven into the fiber ofboth old parties to allow them to makesuch a tariff. The Progressive party onlyis free from these influences. TheProgressive party only believes in thesincere enactment of a sound tariff

policy. The Progressive party only canchange the tariff as it must be changed.

These are samples of the reforms inthe laws of business that we intend to puton the Nation's statute books. But thereare other questions as important andpressing that we mean to answer bysound and humane laws. Child labor infactories, mills, mines and sweat-shopsmust be ended throughout the Republic.Such labor is a crime against childhoodbecause it prevents the growth of normalmanhood and womanhood. It is a crimeagainst the Nation because it preventsthe growth of a host of children intostrong, patriotic and intelligent citizens.

Only the Nation can stop thisindustrial vice. The States cannot stop it.

The States never stopped any nationalwrong—and child labor is a nationalwrong. To leave it to the State alone isunjust to business; for if some Statesstop it and other States do not, businessmen of the former are at a disadvantagewith the business men of the latter,because they must sell in the samemarket goods made by manhood labor atmanhood wages in competition withgoods made by childhood labor atchildhood wages. To leave it to theStates is unjust to manhood labor; forchildhood labor in any State lowersmanhood labor in every State, becausethe product of childhood labor in anyState competes with the product ofmanhood labor in every State. Children

workers at the looms in South Carolinameans bayonets at the breasts of men andwomen workers in Massachusetts whostrike for living wages. Let the States dowhat they can, and more power to theirarm; but let the Nation do what it shouldand cleanse our flag from this stain.

Modern industrialism has changed thestatus of women. Women now are wageearners in factories, stores and otherplaces of toil. In hours of labor and allthe physical conditions of industrialeffort they must compete with men. Andthey must do it at lower wages than menreceive—wages which, in most cases,are not enough for these women workersto live on.

This is inhuman and indecent. It is

unsocial and uneconomic. It is immoraland unpatriotic. Toward women theProgressive party proclaims the chivalryof the State. We propose to protectwomen wage-earners by suitable laws,an example of which is the minimumwage for women workers—a wagewhich shall be high enough to at leastbuy clothing, food and shelter for thewoman toiler.

The care of the aged is one of the mostperplexing problems of modern life.How is the workingman with less thanfive hundred dollars a year, and withearning power waning as his own yearsadvance, to provide for aged parents orother relatives in addition to furnishingfood, shelter and clothing for his wife

and children? What is to become of thefamily of the laboring man whosestrength has been sapped by excessivetoil and who has been thrown upon theindustrial scrap heap? It is questions likethese we must answer if we are to justifyfree institutions. They are questions towhich the masses of people are chainedas to a body of death. And they arequestions which other and poorernations are answering.

We progressives mean that Americashall answer them. The Progressiveparty is the helping hand to those whoma vicious industrialism has maimed andcrippled. We are for the conservation ofour natural resources; but even more weare for the conservation of human life.

Our forests, water power and mineralsare valuable and must be saved from thespoilers; but men, women and childrenare more valuable and they, too, must besaved from the spoilers.

Because women, as much as men, area part of our economic and social life,women, as much as men, should have thevoting power to solve all economic andsocial problems. Votes for women aretheirs as a matter of natural right alone;votes for women should be theirs as amatter of political wisdom also. Aswage-earners, they should help to solvethe labor problem; as property ownersthey should help to solve the taxproblem; as wives and mothers theyshould help to solve all the problems

that concern the home. And that meansall national problems; for the Nationabides at the fireside.

If it is said that women cannot helpdefend the Nation in time of war andtherefore that they should not help todetermine the Nation's destinies in timeof peace, the answer is that womensuffer and serve in time of conflict asmuch as men who carry muskets. And thedeeper answer is that those who bear theNation's soldiers are as much theNation's defenders as their sons.

Public spokesmen for the invisiblegovernment say that many of our reformsare unconstitutional. The same kind ofmen said the same thing of every effortthe Nation has made to end national

abuses. But in every case, whether in thecourts, at the ballot box, or on thebattlefield, the vitality of theConstitution was vindicated.

The Progressive party believes thatthe Constitution is a living thing,growing with the people's growth,strengthening with the people's strength,aiding the people in their struggle forlife, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,permitting the people to meet all theirneeds as conditions change. Theopposition believes that the Constitutionis a dead form, holding back the people'sgrowth, shackling the people's strengthbut giving a free hand to malign powersthat prey upon the people. The firstwords of the Constitution are "We the

people," and they declare that theConstitution's purpose is "to form aperfect Union and to promote the generalwelfare." To do just that is the very heartof the progressive cause.

The Progressive party asserts anewthe vitality of the Constitution. Webelieve in the true doctrine of states'rights, which forbids the Nation frominterfering with states' affairs, and alsoforbids the states from interfering withnational affairs. The combinedintelligence and composite conscienceof the American people is as irresistibleas it is righteous; and the Constitutiondoes not prevent that force from workingout the general welfare.

From certain sources we hear

preachments about the danger of ourreforms to American institutions. Whatis the purpose of American institutions?Why was this Republic established?What does the flag stand for? What dothese things mean?

They mean that the people shall befree to correct human abuses.

They mean that men, women andchildren shall not be denied theopportunity to grow stronger and nobler.

They mean that the people shall havethe power to make our land each day abetter place to live in.

They mean the realities of liberty andnot the academics of theory.

They mean the actual progress of therace in tangible items of daily living and

not the theoretics of barren disputation.If they do not mean these things they

are as sounding brass and tinklingcymbals.

A Nation of strong, upright men andwomen; a Nation of wholesome homes,realizing the best ideals; a Nation whosepower is glorified by its justice andwhose justice is the conscience ofscores of millions of God-fearing people—that is the Nation the people need andwant. And that is the Nation they shallhave.

For never doubt that we Americanswill make good the real meaning of ourinstitutions. Never doubt that we willsolve, in righteousness and wisdom,every vexing problem. Never doubt that

in the end, the hand from above thatleads us upward will prevail over thehand from below that drags usdownward. Never doubt that we areindeed a Nation whose God is the Lord.

And, so, never doubt that a braver,fairer, cleaner America surely willcome; that a better and brighter life forall beneath the flag surely will beachieved. Those who now scoff soonwill pray. Those who now doubt soonwill believe.

Soon the night will pass; and when, tothe Sentinel on the ramparts of Libertythe anxious ask: "Watchman, what of thenight?" his answer will be "Lo, the mornappeareth."

Knowing the price we must pay, the

sacrifice we must make, the burdens wemust carry, the assaults we must endure—knowing full well the cost—yet weenlist, and we enlist for the war. For weknow the justice of our cause, and weknow, too, its certain triumph.

Not reluctantly then, but eagerly, notwith faint hearts but strong, do we nowadvance upon the enemies of the people.For the call that comes to us is the callthat came to our fathers. As theyresponded so shall we.

"He hath sounded forth a trumpetthat shall never call retreat,He is sifting out the hearts of menbefore His judgment seat.Oh, be swift our souls to answer

Him, be jubilant our feet, Our God is marching on."

RUSSELL CONWELLACRES OF DIAMONDS[40]

I am astonished that so many peopleshould care to hear this story over again.Indeed, this lecture has become a studyin psychology; it often breaks all rules oforatory, departs from the precepts ofrhetoric, and yet remains the mostpopular of any lecture I have deliveredin the forty-four years of my public life. Ihave sometimes studied for a year upona lecture and made careful research, andthen presented the lecture just once—never delivered it again. I put too muchwork on it. But this had no work on it—

thrown together perfectly at random,spoken offhand without any specialpreparation, and it succeeds when thething we study, work over, adjust to aplan, is an entire failure.

The "Acres of Diamonds" which Ihave mentioned through so many yearsare to be found in Philadelphia, and youare to find them. Many have found them.And what man has done, man can do. Icould not find anything better toillustrate my thought than a story I havetold over and over again, and which isnow found in books in nearly everylibrary.

In 1870 we went down the TigrisRiver. We hired a guide at Bagdad toshow us Persepolis, Nineveh and

Babylon, and the ancient countries ofAssyria as far as the Arabian Gulf. Hewas well acquainted with the land, buthe was one of those guides who love toentertain their patrons; he was like abarber that tells you many stories inorder to keep your mind off thescratching and the scraping. He told meso many stories that I grew tired of histelling them and I refused to listen—looked away whenever he commenced;that made the guide quite angry. Iremember that toward evening he tookhis Turkish cap off his head and swung itaround in the air. The gesture I didnot understand and I did not dare look athim for fear I should become the victimof another story. But, although I am not a

woman, I did look, and the instant Iturned my eyes upon that worthy guidehe was off again. Said he, "I will tellyou a story now which reserve for myparticular friends!" So then, countingmyself a particular friend, I listened, andI have always been glad I did.

He said there once lived not far fromthe River Indus an ancient Persian by thename of Al Hafed. He said that Al Hafedowned a very large farm with orchards,grain fields and gardens. He was acontented and wealthy man—contentedbecause he was wealthy, and wealthybecause he was contented. One day therevisited this old farmer one of thoseancient Buddhist priests, and he satdown by Al Hafed's fire and told that

old farmer how this world of ours wasmade. He said that this world was oncea mere bank of fog, which isscientifically true, and he said that theAlmighty thrust his finger into the bankof fog and then began slowly to move hisfinger around and gradually to increasethe speed of his finger until at last hewhirled that bank of fog into a solid ballof fire, and it went rolling through theuniverse, burning its way through othercosmic banks of fog, until it condensedthe moisture without, and fell in floodsof rain upon the heated surface andcooled the outward crust. Then theinternal flames burst through the coolingcrust and threw up the mountains andmade the hills of the valley of this

wonderful world of ours. If this internalmelted mass burst out and copied veryquickly it became granite; that whichcooled less quickly became silver; andless quickly, gold; and after golddiamonds were made. Said the oldpriest, "A diamond is a congealed dropof sunlight."

This is a scientific truth also. You allknow that a diamond is pure carbon,actually deposited sunlight—and he saidanother thing I would not forget: hedeclared that a diamond is the last andhighest of God's mineral creations, as awoman is the last and highest of God'sanimal creations. I suppose that is thereason why the two have such a likingfor each other. And the old priest told Al

Hafed that if he had a handful ofdiamonds he could purchase a wholecountry, and with a mine of diamonds hecould place his children upon thronesthrough the influence of their greatwealth. Al Hafed heard all aboutdiamonds and how much they wereworth, and went to his bed that night apoor man—not that he had lost anything,but poor because he was discontentedand discontented because he thought hewas poor. He said: "I want a mine ofdiamonds!" So he lay awake all night,and early in the morning sought out thepriest. Now I know from experience thata priest when awakened early in themorning is cross. He awoke that priestout of his dreams and said to him, "Will

you tell me where I can find diamonds?"The priest said, "Diamonds? What doyou want with diamonds?" "I want to beimmensely rich," said Al Hafed, "but Idon't know where to go." "Well," saidthe priest, "if you will find a river thatruns over white sand between highmountains, in those sands you willalways see diamonds." "Do you reallybelieve that there is such a river?""Plenty of them, plenty of them; all youhave to do is just go and find them, thenyou have them." Al Hafed said, "I willgo." So he sold his farm, collected hismoney at interest, left his family incharge of a neighbor, and away he wentin search of diamonds. He began veryproperly, to my mind, at the Mountains

of the Moon. Afterwards he went aroundinto Palestine, then wandered on intoEurope, and at last when his money wasall spent, and he was in rags,wretchedness and poverty, he stood onthe shore of that bay in Barcelona,Spain, when a tidal wave came rollingthrough the Pillars of Hercules and thepoor afflicted, suffering man could notresist the awful temptation to casthimself into that incoming tide, and hesank beneath its foaming crest, never torise in this life again.

When that old guide had told me thatvery sad story, he stopped the camel Iwas riding and went back to fix thebaggage on one of the other camels, andI remember thinking to myself, "Why did

he reserve that for hisparticularfriends?" There seemed to be nobeginning, middle or end—nothing to it.That was the first story I ever heard toldor read in which the hero was killed inthe first chapter. I had but one chapter ofthat story and the hero was dead. Whenthe guide came back and took up thehalter of my camel again, he went righton with the same story. He said that AlHafed's successor led his camel out intothe garden to drink, and as that camel putits nose down into the clear water of thegarden brook Al Hafed's successornoticed a curious flash of light from thesands of the shallow stream, andreaching in he pulled out a black stonehaving an eye of light that reflected all

the colors of the rainbow, and he tookthat curious pebble into the house andleft it on the mantel, then went on hisway and forgot all about it. A few daysafter that, this same old priest who toldAl Hafed how diamonds were made,came in to visit his successor, when hesaw that flash of light from the mantel.He rushed up and said, "Here is adiamond—here is a diamond! Has AlHafed returned?" "No, no; Al Hafed hasnot returned and that is not a diamond;that is nothing but a stone; we found itright out here in our garden." "But Iknow a diamond when I see it," said he;"that is a diamond!"

Then together they rushed to thegarden and stirred up the white sands

with their fingers and found others morebeautiful, more valuable diamonds thanthe first, and thus, said the guide to me,were discovered the diamond mines ofGolconda, the most magnificent diamondmines in all the history of mankind,exceeding the Kimberley in its value.The great Kohinoor diamond inEngland's crown jewels and the largestcrown diamond on earth in Russia'scrown jewels, which I had often hopedshe would have to sell before they hadpeace with Japan, came from that mine,and when the old guide had called myattention to that wonderful discovery hetook his Turkish cap off his head againand swung it around in the air to call myattention to the moral. Those Arab

guides have a moral to each story,though the stories are not always moral.He said, had Al Hafed remained at homeand dug in his own cellar or in his owngarden, instead of wretchedness,starvation, poverty and death in a strangeland, he would have had "acres ofdiamonds"—for every acre, yes, everyshovelful of that old farm afterwardsrevealed the gems which since havedecorated the crowns of monarchs.When he had given the moral to hisstory, I saw why he had reserved thisstory for his "particular friends." I didn'ttell him I could see it; I was not going totell that old Arab that I could see it. Forit was that mean old Arab's way of goingaround a thing, like a lawyer, and saying

indirectly what he did not dare saydirectly, that there was a certain youngman that day traveling down the TigrisRiver that might better be at home inAmerica. I didn't tell him I could see it.

I told him his story reminded me ofone, and I told it to him quick. I told himabout that man out in California, who, in1847, owned a ranch out there. He readthat gold had been discovered inSouthern California, and he sold hisranch to Colonel Sutter and started off tohunt for gold. Colonel Sutter put a millon the little stream in that farm and oneday his little girl brought some wet sandfrom the raceway of the mill into thehouse and placed it before the fire todry, and as that sand was falling through

the little girl's fingers a visitor saw thefirst shining scales of real gold that wereever discovered in California; and theman who wanted the gold had sold thisranch and gone away, never to return. Idelivered this lecture two years ago inCalifornia, in the city that stands nearthat farm, and they told me that the mineis not exhausted yet, and that a one-thirdowner of that farm has been gettingduring these recent years twenty dollarsof gold every fifteen minutes of his life,sleeping or waking. Why, you and Iwould enjoy an income like that!

But the best illustration that I havenow of this thought was found here inPennsylvania. There was a man living inPennsylvania who owned a farm here

and he did what I should do if I had afarm in Pennsylvania—he sold it. Butbefore he sold it he concluded to secureemployment collecting coal oil for hiscousin in Canada. They first discoveredcoal oil there. So this farmer inPennsylvania decided that he wouldapply for a position with his cousin inCanada. Now, you see, this farmer wasnot altogether a foolish man. He did notleave his farm until he had somethingelse to do. Of all the simpletons the starsshine on there is none more foolish thana man who leaves one job before he hasobtained another. And that has especialreference to gentlemen of my profession,and has no reference to a man seeking adivorce. So I say this old farmer did not

leave one job until he had obtainedanother. He wrote to Canada, but hiscousin replied that he could not engagehim because he did not know anythingabout the oil business. "Well, then," saidhe, "I will understand it." So he sethimself at the study of the whole subject.He began at the second day of thecreation, he studied the subject from theprimitive vegetation to the coal oil stage,until he knew all about it. Then he wroteto his cousin and said, "Now Iunderstand the oil business." And hiscousin replied to him, "All right, then,come on."

That man, by the record of the county,sold his farm for eight hundred andthirty-three dollars—even money, "no

cents." He had scarcely gone from thatfarm before the man who purchased itwent out to arrange for the watering thecattle and he found that the previousowner had arranged the matter verynicely. There is a stream running downthe hillside there, and the previousowner had gone out and put a plankacross that stream at an angle, extendingacross the brook and down edgewise afew inches under the surface of thewater. The purpose of the plank acrossthat brook was to throw over to the otherbank a dreadful-looking scum throughwhich the cattle would not put theirnoses to drink above the plank, althoughthey would drink the water on one sidebelow it. Thus that man who had gone to

Canada had been himself damming backfor twenty-three years a flow of coal oilwhich the State Geologist ofPennsylvania declared officially, asearly as 1870, was then worth to ourState a hundred millions of dollars. Thecity of Titusville now stands on that farmand those Pleasantville wells flow on,and that farmer who had studied allabout the formation of oil since thesecond day of God's creation clear downto the present time, sold that farm for$833, no cents—again I say, "no sense."

But I need another illustration, and Ifound that in Massachusetts, and I amsorry I did, because that is my old State.This young man I mention went out of theState to study—went down to Yale

College and studied Mines and Mining.They paid him fifteen dollars a weekduring his last year for training studentswho were behind their classes inmineralogy, out of hours, of course,while pursuing his own studies. Butwhen he graduated they raised his payfrom fifteen dollars to forty-five dollarsand offered him a professorship. Then hewent straight home to his mother andsaid, "Mother, I won't work for forty-five dollars a week. What is forty-fivedollars a week for a man with a brainlike mine! Mother, let's go out toCalifornia and stake out gold claims andbe immensely rich." "Now," said hismother, "it is just as well to be happy asit is to be rich."

But as he was the only son he had hisway—they always do; and they sold outin Massachusetts and went to Wisconsin,where he went into the employ of theSuperior Copper Mining Company, andhe was lost from sight in the employ ofthat company at fifteen dollars a weekagain. He was also to have an interest inany mines that he should discover forthat company. But I do not believe thathe has ever discovered a mine—I do notknow anything about it, but I do notbelieve he has. I know he had scarcelygone from the old homestead before thefarmer who had bought the homesteadwent out to dig potatoes, and as he wasbringing them in in a large basketthrough the front gateway, the ends of the

stone wall came so near together at thegate that the basket hugged very tight. Sohe set the basket on the ground andpulled, first on one side and then on theother side. Our farms in Massachusettsare mostly stone walls, and the farmershave to be economical with theirgateways in order to have some place toput the stones. That basket hugged sotight there that as he was hauling itthrough he noticed in the upper stonenext the gate a block of native silver,eight inches square; and this professor ofmines and mining and mineralogy, whowould not work for forty-five dollars aweek, when he sold that homestead inMassachusetts, sat right on that stone tomake the bargain. He was brought up

there; he had gone back and forth by thatpiece of silver, rubbed it with hissleeve, and it seemed to say, "Comenow, now, now, here is a hundredthousand dollars. Why not take me?" Buthe would not take it. There was no silverin Newburyport; it was all away off—well, I don't know where; he didn't, butsomewhere else—and he was aprofessor of mineralogy.

I do not know of anything I wouldenjoy better than to take the whole timeto-night telling of blunders like that Ihave heard professors make. Yet I wish Iknew what that man is doing out there inWisconsin. I can imagine him out there,as he sits by his fireside, and he issaying to his friends, "Do you know that

man Conwell that lives inPhiladelphia?" "Oh, yes, I have heard ofhim." "And do you know that man Jonesthat lives in that city?" "Yes, I haveheard of him." And then he begins tolaugh and laugh and says to his friends,"They have done the same thing I did,precisely." And that spoils the wholejoke, because you and I have done it.

Ninety out of every hundred peoplehere have made that mistake this veryday. I say you ought to be rich; you haveno right to be poor. To live inPhiladelphia and not be rich is amisfortune, and it is doubly a misfortune,because you could have been rich just aswell as be poor. Philadelphia furnishesso many opportunities. You ought to be

rich. But persons with certain religiousprejudice will ask, "How can you spendyour time advising the rising generationto give their time to getting money—dollars and cents—the commercialspirit?"

Yet I must say that you ought to spendtime getting rich. You and I know thereare some things more valuable thanmoney; of course, we do. Ah, yes! By aheart made unspeakably sad by a graveon which the autumn leaves now fall, Iknow there are some things higher andgrander and sublimer than money. Welldoes the man know, who has suffered,that there are some things sweeter andholier and more sacred than gold.Nevertheless, the man of common sense

also knows that there is not any one ofthose things that is not greatly enhancedby the use of money. Money is power.Love is the grandest thing on God'searth, but fortunate the lover who hasplenty of money. Money is power;money has powers; and for a man to say,"I do not want money," is to say, "I donot wish to do any good to myfellowmen." It is absurd thus to talk. It isabsurd to disconnect them. This is awonderfully great life, and you ought tospend your time getting money, becauseof the power there is in money. And yetthis religious prejudice is so great thatsome people think it is a great honor tobe one of God's poor. I am looking in thefaces of people who think just that way. I

heard a man once say in a prayermeeting that he was thankful that he wasone of God's poor, and then I silentlywondered what his wife would say tothat speech, as she took in washing tosupport the man while he sat and smokedon the veranda. I don't want to see anymore of that land of God's poor. Now,when a man could have been rich just aswell, and he is now weak because he ispoor, he has done some great wrong; hehas been untruthful to himself; he hasbeen unkind to his fellowmen. We oughtto get rich if we can by honorable andChristian methods, and these are the onlymethods that sweep us quickly towardthe goal of riches.

I remember, not many years ago a

young theological student who came intomy office and said to me that he thoughtit was his duty to come in and "laborwith me." I asked him what hadhappened, and he said: "I feel it is myduty to come in and speak to you, sir,and say that the Holy Scriptures declarethat money is the root of all evil." Iasked him where he found that saying,and he said he found it in the Bible. Iasked him whether he had made a newBible, and he said, no, he had not gottena new Bible, that it was in the old Bible."Well," I said, "if it is in my Bible, Inever saw it. Will you please get thetext-book and let me see it?" He left theroom and soon came stalking in with hisBible open, with all the bigoted pride of

the narrow sectarian, who founds hiscreed on some misinterpretation ofScripture, and he put the Bible down onthe table before me and fairly squealedinto my ear, "There it is. You can read itfor yourself." I said to him, "Young man,you will learn, when you get a littleolder, that you cannot trust anotherdenomination to read the Bible for you."I said, "Now, you belong to anotherdenomination. Please read it to me, andremember that you are taught in a schoolwhere emphasis is exegesis." So he tookthe Bible and read it: "The love ofmoney is the root of all evil." Then hehad it right. The Great Book has comeback into the esteem and love of thepeople, and into the respect of the

greatest minds of earth, and now you canquote it and rest your life and your deathon it without more fear. So, when hequoted right from the Scriptures hequoted the truth. "The love of money isthe root of all evil." Oh, that is it. It isthe worship of the means instead of theend, though you cannot reach the endwithout the means. When a man makesan idol of the money instead of thepurposes for which it may be used, whenhe squeezes the dollar until the eaglesqueals, then it is made the root of allevil. Think, if you only had the money,what you could do for your wife, yourchild, and for your home and your city.Think how soon you could endow theTemple College yonder if you only had

the money and the disposition to give it;and yet, my friend, people say you and Ishould not spend the time getting rich.How inconsistent the whole thing is. Weought to be rich, because money haspower. I think the best thing for me to dois to illustrate this, for if I say you oughtto get rich, I ought, at least, to suggesthow it is done. We get a prejudiceagainst rich men because of the lies thatare told about them. The lies that aretold about Mr. Rockefeller because hehas two hundred million dollars—somany believe them; yet how false is therepresentation of that man to the world.How little we can tell what is truenowadays when newspapers try to selltheir papers entirely on some sensation!

The way they lie about the rich men issomething terrible, and I do not knowthat there is anything to illustrate thisbetter than what the newspapers now sayabout the city of Philadelphia. A youngman came to me the other day and said,"If Mr. Rockefeller, as you think, is agood man, why is it that everybody saysso much against him?" It is because hehas gotten ahead of us; that is the wholeof it—just gotten ahead of us. Why is itMr. Carnegie is criticised so sharply byan envious world? Because he has gottenmore than we have. If a man knows morethan I know, don't I incline to criticisesomewhat his learning? Let a man standin a pulpit and preach to thousands, andif I have fifteen people in my church, and

they're all asleep, don't I criticise him?We always do that to the man who getsahead of us. Why, the man you arecriticising has one hundred millions, andyou have fifty cents, and both of youhave just what you are worth. One of therichest men in this country came into myhome and sat down in my parlor andsaid: "Did you see all those lies aboutmy family in the paper?" "Certainly Idid; I knew they were lies when I sawthem." "Why do they lie about me theway they do?" "Well," I said to him, "ifyou will give me your check for onehundred millions, I will take all the liesalong with it." "Well," said he, "I don'tsee any sense in their thus talking aboutmy family and myself. Conwell, tell me

frankly, what do you think the Americanpeople think of me?" "Well," said I,"they think you are the blackest-heartedvillain that ever trod the soil!" "But whatcan I do about it?" There is nothing hecan do about it, and yet he is one of thesweetest Christian men I ever knew. Ifyou get a hundred millions you will havethe lies; you will be lied about, and youcan judge your success in any line by thelies that are told about you. I say that youought to be rich. But there are evercoming to me young men who say, "Iwould like to go into business, but Icannot." "Why not?" "Because I have nocapital to begin on." Capital, capital tobegin on! What! young man! Living inPhiladelphia and looking at this wealthy

generation, all of whom began as poorboys, and you want capital to begin on?It is fortunate for you that you have nocapital. I am glad you have no money. Ipity a rich man's son. A rich man's son inthese days of ours occupies a verydifficult position. They are to be pitied.A rich man's son cannot know the verybest things in human life. He cannot. Thestatistics of Massachusetts show us thatnot one out of seventeen rich men's sonsever die rich. They are raised in luxury,they die in poverty. Even if a rich man'sson retains his father's money even thenhe cannot know the best things of life.

A young man in our college yonderasked me to formulate for him what Ithought was the happiest hour in a man's

history, and I studied it long and cameback convinced that the happiest hourthat any man ever sees in any earthlymatter is when a young man takes hisbride over the threshold of the door, forthe first time, of the house he himself hasearned and built, when he turns to hisbride and with an eloquence greater thanany language of mine, he sayeth to hiswife, "My loved one, I earned this homemyself; I earned it all. It is all mine, andI divide it with thee." That is thegrandest moment a human heart may eversee. But a rich man's son cannot knowthat. He goes into a finer mansion, it maybe, but he is obliged to go through thehouse and say, "Mother gave me this,mother gave me that, my mother gave me

that, my mother gave me that," until hiswife wishes she had married his mother.Oh, I pity a rich man's son. I do. Until hegets so far along in his dudeism that hegets his arms up like that and can't getthem down. Didn't you ever see any ofthem astray at Atlantic City? I saw oneof these scarecrows once and I nevertire thinking about it. I was at NiagaraFalls lecturing, and after the lecture Iwent to the hotel, and when I went up tothe desk there stood there a millionaire'sson from New York. He was anindescribable specimen of anthropologicpotency. He carried a gold-headed caneunder his arm—more in its head than hehad in his. I do not believe I coulddescribe the young man if I should try.

But still I must say that he wore an eye-glass he could not see through; patentleather shoes he could not walk in, andpants he could not sit down in—dressedlike a grasshopper! Well, this humancricket came up to the clerk's desk justas I came in. He adjusted his unseeingeye-glass in this wise and lisped to theclerk, because it's "Hinglish, you know,"to lisp: "Thir, thir, will you have thekindness to fuhnish me with thome papahand thome envelopehs!" The clerkmeasured that man quick, and he pulledout a drawer and took some envelopesand paper and cast them across thecounter and turned away to his books.You should have seen that specimen ofhumanity when the paper and envelopes

came across the counter—he whosewants had always been anticipated byservants. He adjusted his unseeing eye-glass and he yelled after that clerk:"Come back here, thir, come right backhere. Now, thir, will you order athervant to take that papah and thotheenvelopes and carry them to yondahdethk." Oh, the poor miserable,contemptible American monkey! Hecouldn't carry paper and envelopestwenty feet. I suppose he could not gethis arms down. I have no pity for suchtravesties of human nature. If you haveno capital, I am glad of it. You don'tneed capital; you need common sense,not copper cents.

A.T. Stewart, the great princely

merchant of New York, the richest manin America in his time, was a poor boy;he had a dollar and a half and went intothe mercantile business. But he losteighty-seven and a half cents of his firstdollar and a half because he boughtsome needles and thread and buttons tosell, which people didn't want.

Are you poor? It is because you arenot wanted and are left on your ownhands. There was the great lesson.Apply it whichever way you will itcomes to every single person's life,young or old. He did not know whatpeople needed, and consequently boughtsomething they didn't want and had thegoods left on his hands a dead loss. A.T.Stewart learned there the great lesson of

his mercantile life and said, "I willnever buy anything more until I firstlearn what the people want; then I'llmake the purchase." He went around tothe doors and asked them what they didwant, and when he found out what theywanted, he invested his sixty-two and ahalf cents and began to supply "a knowndemand." I care not what yourprofession or occupation in life may be;I care not whether you are a lawyer, adoctor, a housekeeper, teacher orwhatever else, the principle is preciselythe same. We must know what the worldneeds first and then invest ourselves tosupply that need, and success is almostcertain. A.T. Stewart went on until hewas worth forty millions. "Well," you

will say, "a man can do that in NewYork, but cannot do it here inPhiladelphia." The statistics verycarefully gathered in New York in 1889showed one hundred and sevenmillionaires in the city worth over tenmillions apiece. It was remarkable andpeople think they must go there to getrich. Out of that one hundred and sevenmillionaires only seven of them madetheir money in New York, and the othersmoved to New York after their fortuneswere made, and sixty-seven out of theremaining hundred made their fortunes intowns of less than six thousand people,and the richest man in the country at thattime lived in a town of thirty-fivehundred inhabitants, and always lived

there and never moved away. It is not somuch where you are as what you are. Butat the same time if the largeness of thecity comes into the problem, thenremember it is the smaller city thatfurnishes the great opportunity to makethe millions of money. The bestillustration that I can give is in referenceto John Jacob Astor, who was a poorboy and who made all the money of theAstor family. He made more than hissuccessors have ever earned, and yet heonce held a mortgage on a millinerystore in New York, and because thepeople could not make enough money topay the interest and the rent, heforeclosed the mortgage and tookpossession of the store and went into

partnership with the man who had failed.He kept the same stock, did not givethem a dollar capital, and he left themalone and went out and sat down upon abench in the park. Out there on thatbench in the park he had the mostimportant, and to my mind, thepleasantest part of that partnershipbusiness. He was watching the ladies asthey went by; and where is the man thatwouldn't get rich at that business? Butwhen John Jacob Astor saw a lady pass,with her shoulders back and her head up,as if she did not care if the whole worldlooked on her, he studied her bonnet; andbefore that bonnet was out of sight heknew the shape of the frame and thecolor of the trimmings, the curl of the—

something on a bonnet. Sometimes I tryto describe a woman's bonnet, but it is oflittle use, for it would be out of style to-morrow night. So John Jacob Astor wentto the store and said: "Now, put in theshow window just such a bonnet as Idescribe to you because," said he, "Ihave just seen a lady who likes just sucha bonnet. Do not make up any more till Icome back." And he went out again andsat on that bench in the park, and anotherlady of a different form and complexionpassed him with a bonnet of differentshape and color, of course. "Now," saidhe, "put such a bonnet as that in the showwindow." He didn't fill his showwindow with hats and bonnets whichdrive people away and then sit in the

back of the store and bawl because thepeople go somewhere else to trade. Hedidn't put a hat or bonnet in that showwindow the like of which he had notseen before it was made up.

In our city especially there are greatopportunities for manufacturing, and thetime has come when the line is drawnvery sharply between the stockholders ofthe factory and their employés. Now,friends, there has also come adiscouraging gloom upon this countryand the laboring men are beginning tofeel that they are being held down by acrust over their heads through which theyfind it impossible to break, and thearistocratic money-owner himself is sofar above that he will never descend to

their assistance. That is the thought thatis in the minds of our people. But,friends, never in the history of ourcountry was there an opportunity sogreat for the poor man to get rich asthere is now in the city of Philadelphia.The very fact that they get discouraged iswhat prevents them from getting rich.That is all there is to it. The road isopen, and let us keep it open between thepoor and the rich. I know that the laborunions have two great problems tocontend with, and there is only one wayto solve them. The labor unions aredoing as much to prevent its solving asare the capitalists to-day, and there arepositively two sides to it. The laborunion has two difficulties; the first one is

that it began to make a labor scale for allclasses on a par, and they scale down aman that can earn five dollars a day totwo and a half a day, in order to level upto him an imbecile that cannot earn fiftycents a day. That is one of the mostdangerous and discouraging things forthe working man. He cannot get theresults of his work if he do better workor higher work or work longer; that is adangerous thing, and in order to getevery laboring man free and everyAmerican equal to every otherAmerican, let the laboring man ask whathe is worth and get it—not let anycapitalist say to him: "You shall workfor me for half of what you are worth;"nor let any labor organization say: "You

shall work for the capitalist for half yourworth." Be a man, be independent, andthen shall the laboring man find the roadever open from poverty to wealth. Theother difficulty that the labor union hasto consider, and this problem they haveto solve themselves, is the kind oforators who come and talk to them aboutthe oppressive rich. I can in my dreamsrecite the oration I have heard again andagain under such circumstances. My lifehas been with the laboring man. I am alaboring man myself. I have often, intheir assemblies, heard the speech of theman who has been invited to address thelabor union. The man gets up before theassembled company of honest laboringmen and he begins by saying: "Oh, ye

honest, industrious laboring men, whohave furnished all the capital of theworld, who have built all the palacesand constructed all the railroads andcovered the ocean with her steamships.Oh, you laboring men! You are nothingbut slaves; you are ground down in thedust by the capitalist who is gloatingover you as he enjoys his beautifulestates and as he has his banks filledwith gold, and every dollar he owns iscoined out of the hearts' blood of thehonest laboring man." Now, that is a lie,and you know it is a lie; and yet that isthe kind of speech that they are all thetime hearing, representing the capitalistsas wicked and the laboring men soenslaved. Why, how wrong it is! Let the

man who loves his flag and believes inAmerican principles endeavor with allhis soul to bring the capitalist and thelaboring man together until they standside by side, and arm in arm, and workfor the common good of humanity.

He is an enemy to his country whosets capital against labor or laboragainst capital.

Suppose I were to go down throughthis audience and ask you to introduceme to the great inventors who live herein Philadelphia. "The inventors ofPhiladelphia," you would say, "Why wedon't have any in Philadelphia. It is tooslow to invent anything." But you dohave just as great inventors, and they arehere in this audience, as ever invented a

machine. But the probability is that thegreatest inventor to benefit the worldwith his discovery is some person,perhaps some lady, who thinks she couldnot invent anything. Did you ever studythe history of invention and see howstrange it was that the man who made thegreatest discovery did it without anyprevious idea that he was an inventor?Who are the great inventors? They arepersons with plain, straightforwardcommon sense, who saw a need in theworld and immediately appliedthemselves to supply that need. If youwant to invent anything, don't try to findit in the wheels in your head nor thewheels in your machine, but first find outwhat the people need, and then apply

yourself to that need, and this leads toinvention on the part of the people youwould not dream of before. The greatinventors are simply great men; thegreater the man the more simple the man;and the more simple a machine, the morevaluable it is. Did you ever know areally great man? His ways are sosimple, so common, so plain, that youthink any one could do what he is doing.So it is with the great men the worldover. If you know a really great man, aneighbor of yours, you can go right up tohim and say, "How are you, Jim, goodmorning, Sam." Of course you can, forthey are always so simple.

When I wrote the life of GeneralGarfield, one of his neighbors took me to

his back door, and shouted, "Jim, Jim,Jim!" and very soon "Jim" came to thedoor and General Garfield let me in—one of the grandest men of our century.The great men of the world are ever so. Iwas down in Virginia and went up to aneducational institution and was directedto a man who was setting out a tree. Iapproached him and said, "Do you thinkit would be possible for me to seeGeneral Robert E. Lee, the President ofthe University?" He said, "Sir, I amGeneral Lee." Of course, when you meetsuch a man, so noble a man as that, youwill find him a simple, plain man.Greatness is always just so modest andgreat inventions are simple.

I asked a class in school once who

were the great inventors, and a little girlpopped up and said, "Columbus." Well,now, she was not so far wrong.Columbus bought a farm and he carriedon that farm just as I carried on myfather's farm. He took a hoe and went outand sat down on a rock. But Columbus,as he sat upon that shore and looked outupon the ocean, noticed that the ships, asthey sailed away, sank deeper into thesea the farther they went. And since thattime some other "Spanish ships" havesunk into the sea. But as Columbusnoticed that the tops of the mastsdropped down out of sight, he said:"That is the way it is with this hoehandle; if you go around this hoe handle,the farther off you go the farther down

you go. I can sail around to the EastIndies." How plain it all was. Howsimple the mind—majestic like thesimplicity of a mountain in its greatness.Who are the great inventors? They areever the simple, plain, everyday peoplewho see the need and set about to supplyit.

I was once lecturing in NorthCarolina, and the cashier of the bank satdirectly behind a lady who wore a verylarge hat. I said to that audience, "Yourwealth is too near to you; you arelooking right over it." He whispered tohis friend, "Well, then, my wealth is inthat hat." A little later, as he wrote me, Isaid, "Wherever there is a human needthere is a greater fortune than a mine can

furnish." He caught my thought, and hedrew up his plan for a better hat pin thanwas in the hat before him, and the pin isnow being manufactured. He wasoffered fifty-five thousand dollars for hispatent. That man made his fortune beforehe got out of that hall. This is the wholequestion: Do you see a need?

I remember well a man up in mynative hills, a poor man, who for twentyyears was helped by the town in hispoverty, who owned a wide-spreadingmaple tree that covered the poor man'scottage like a benediction from on high. Iremember that tree, for in the spring—there were some roguish boys aroundthat neighborhood when I was young—inthe spring of the year the man would put

a bucket there and the spouts to catch themaple sap, and I remember where thatbucket was; and when I was young theboys were, oh, so mean, that they went tothat tree before that man had gotten outof bed in the morning, and after he hadgone to bed at night, and drank up thatsweet sap. I could swear they did it. Hedidn't make a great deal of maple sugarfrom that tree. But one day he made thesugar so white and crystalline that thevisitor did not believe it was maplesugar; thought maple sugar must be redor black. He said to the old man: "Whydon't you make it that way and sell it forconfectionery?" The old man caught histhought and invented the "rock maplecrystal," and before that patent expired

he had ninety thousand dollars and hadbuilt a beautiful palace on the site of thattree. After forty years owning that treehe awoke to find it had fortunes ofmoney indeed in it. And many of us areright by the tree that has a fortune for us,and we own it, possess it, do what wewill with it, but we do not learn its valuebecause we do not see the human need,and in these discoveries and inventionsthis is one of the most romantic things oflife.

I have received letters from all overthe country and from England, where Ihave lectured, saying that they havediscovered this and that, and one manout in Ohio took me through his greatfactories last spring, and said that they

cost him $680,000, and said he, "I wasnot worth a cent in the world when Iheard your lecture 'Acres of Diamonds;'but I made up my mind to stop right hereand make my fortune here, and here itis." He showed me through hisunmortgaged possessions. And this is acontinual experience now as I travelthrough the country, after these manyyears. I mention this incident, not toboast, but to show you that you can dothe same if you will.

Who are the great inventors? Iremember a good illustration in a manwho used to live in East Brookfield,Mass. He was a shoemaker, and he wasout of work, and he sat around the houseuntil his wife told him to "go out doors."

And he did what every husband iscompelled by law to do—he obeyed hiswife. And he went out and sat down onan ash barrel in his back yard. Think ofit! Stranded on an ash barrel and theenemy in possession of the house! As hesat on that ash barrel, he looked downinto that little brook which ran throughthat back yard into the meadows, and hesaw a little trout go flashing up thestream and hiding under the bank. I donot suppose he thought of Tennyson'sbeautiful poem:

"Chatter, chatter, as I flow, To join the brimming river,Men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever."

But as this man looked into the brook,he leaped off that ash barrel andmanaged to catch the trout with hisfingers, and sent it to Worcester. Theywrote back that they would give him afive dollar bill for another such trout asthat, not that it was worth that much, butthey wished to help the poor man. Sothis shoemaker and his wife, nowperfectly united, that five dollar bill inprospect, went out to get another trout.They went up the stream to its sourceand down to the brimming river, but notanother trout could they find in the wholestream; and so they came homedisconsolate and went to the minister.The minister didn't know how troutgrew, but he pointed the way. Said he,

"Get Seth Green's book, and that willgive you the information you want."They did so, and found all about theculture of trout. They found that a troutlays thirty-six hundred eggs every yearand every trout gains a quarter of apound every year, so that in four years alittle trout will furnish four tons perannum to sell to the market at fifty centsa pound. When they found that, they saidthey didn't believe any such story as that,but if they could get five dollars apiecethey could make something. And right inthat same back yard with the coal sifterup stream and window screen down thestream, they began the culture of trout.They afterwards moved to the Hudson,and since then he has become the

authority in the United States upon theraising of fish, and he has been next tothe highest on the United States FishCommission in Washington. My lessonis that man's wealth was out there in hisback yard for twenty years, but he didn'tsee it until his wife drove him out with amop stick.

I remember meeting personally a poorcarpenter of Hingham, Massachusetts,who was out of work and in poverty. Hiswife also drove him out of doors. He satdown on the shore and whittled a soakedshingle into a wooden chain. Hischildren quarreled over it in the evening,and while he was whittling a secondone, a neighbor came along and said,"Why don't you whittle toys if you can

carve like that?" He said, "I don't knowwhat to make!" There is the whole thing.His neighbor said to him: "Why don'tyou ask your own children?" Said he,"What is the use of doing that? Mychildren are different from otherpeople's children." I used to see peoplelike that when I taught school. The nextmorning when his boy came down thestairway, he said, "Sam, what do youwant for a toy?" "I want awheelbarrow." When his little girl camedown, he asked her what she wanted,and she said, "I want a little doll'swashstand, a little doll's carriage, a littledoll's umbrella," and went on with awhole lot of things that would have takenhis lifetime to supply. He consulted his

own children right there in his ownhouse and began to whittle out toys toplease them. He began with his jack-knife, and made those unpaintedHingham toys. He is the richest man inthe entire New England States, if Mr.Lawson is to be trusted in his statementconcerning such things, and yet thatman's fortune was made by consultinghis own children in his own house. Youdon't need to go out of your own house tofind out what to invent or what to make. Ialways talk too long on this subject.

I would like to meet the great menwho are here to-night. The great men!We don't have any great men inPhiladelphia. Great men! You say thatthey all come from London, or San

Francisco, or Rome, or Manayunk, oranywhere else but here—anywhere elsebut Philadelphia—and yet, in fact, thereare just as great men in Philadelphia asin any city of its size. There are greatmen and women in this audience. Greatmen, I have said, are very simple men.Just as many great men here as are to befound anywhere. The greatest error injudging great men is that we think thatthey always hold an office. The worldknows nothing of its greatest men. Whoare the great men of the world? Theyoung man and young woman may wellask the question. It is not necessary thatthey should hold an office, and yet that isthe popular idea. That is the idea weteach now in our high schools and

common schools, that the great men ofthe world are those who hold some highoffice, and unless we change that verysoon and do away with that prejudice,we are going to change to an empire.There is no question about it. We mustteach that men are great only on theirintrinsic value, and not on the positionthat they may incidentally happen tooccupy. And yet, don't blame the youngmen saying that they are going to be greatwhen they get into some officialposition. I ask this audience again whoof you are going to be great? Says ayoung man: "I am going to be great.""When are you going to be great?""When I am elected to some politicaloffice." Won't you learn the lesson,

young man; that it is primafacie evidence of littleness to holdpublic office under our form ofgovernment? Think of it. This is agovernment of the people, and by thepeople, and for the people, and not forthe office-holder, and if the people inthis country rule as they always shouldrule, an office-holder is only the servantof the people, and the Bible says that"the servant cannot be greater than hismaster." The Bible says that "he that issent cannot be greater than him who senthim." In this country the people are themasters, and the office-holders cannever be greater than the people; theyshould be honest servants of the people,but they are not our greatest men. Young

man, remember that you never heard of agreat man holding any political office inthis country unless he took that office atan expense to himself. It is a loss toevery great man to take a public office inour country. Bear this in mind, youngman, that you cannot be made great by apolitical election.

Another young man says, "I am goingto be a great man in Philadelphia sometime." "Is that so? When are you going tobe great?" "When there comes anotherwar! When we get into difficulty withMexico, or England, or Russia, or Japan,or with Spain again over Cuba, or withNew Jersey, I will march up to thecannon's mouth, and amid the glisteningbayonets I will tear down their flag from

its staff, and I will come home with starson my shoulders, and hold every officein the gift of the government, and I willbe great." "No, you won't! No, youwon't; that is no evidence of truegreatness, young man." But don't blamethat young man for thinking that way; thatis the way he is taught in the high school.That is the way history is taught incollege. He is taught that the men whoheld the office did all the fighting.

I remember we had a Peace Jubileehere in Philadelphia soon after theSpanish war. Perhaps some of thesevisitors think we should not have had ituntil now in Philadelphia, and as thegreat procession was going up Broadstreet I was told that the tally-ho coach

stopped right in front of my house, andon the coach was Hobson, and all thepeople threw up their hats and swungtheir handkerchiefs, and shouted "Hurrahfor Hobson!" I would have yelled too,because he deserves much more of hiscountry than he has ever received. Butsuppose I go into the High School to-morrow and ask, "Boys, who sunk theMerrimac?" If they answer me"Hobson," they tell me seven-eighths ofa lie—seven-eighths of a lie, becausethere were eight men who sunk theMerrimac. The other seven men, byvirtue of their position, were continuallyexposed to the Spanish fire, whileHobson, as an officer, might reasonablybe behind the smoke-stack. Why, my

friends, in this intelligent audiencegathered here to-night I do not believe Icould find a single person that can namethe other seven men who were withHobson. Why do we teach history in thatway? We ought to teach that howeverhumble the station a man may occupy, ifhe does his full duty in his place, he isjust as much entitled to the Americanpeople's honor as is a king upon athrone. We do teach it as a mother didher little boy in New York when he said,"Mamma, what great building is that?""That is General Grant's tomb." "Whowas General Grant?" "He was the manwho put down the rebellion." Is that theway to teach history?

Do you think we would have gained a

victory if it had depended on GeneralGrant alone? Oh, no. Then why is there atomb on the Hudson at all? Why, notsimply because General Grant waspersonally a great man himself, but thattomb is there because he was arepresentative man and represented twohundred thousand men who went downto death for their nation and many ofthem as great as General Grant. That iswhy that beautiful tomb stands on theheights over the Hudson.

I remember an incident that willillustrate this, the only one that I can giveto-night. I am ashamed of it, but I don'tdare leave it out. I close my eyes now; Ilook back through the years to 1863; Ican see my native town in the Berkshire

Hills, I can see that cattle-show groundfilled with people; I can see the churchthere and the town hall crowded, andhear bands playing, and see flags flyingand handkerchiefs streaming—well do Irecall at this moment that day. Thepeople had turned out to receive acompany of soldiers, and that companycame marching up on the Common. Theyhad served out one term in the Civil Warand had reënlisted, and they were beingreceived by their native townsmen. Iwas but a boy, but I was captain of thatcompany, puffed out with pride on thatday—why, a cambric needle would haveburst me all to pieces. As I marched onthe Common at the head of my company,there was not a man more proud than I.

We marched into the town hall and thenthey seated my soldiers down in thecenter of the house and I took my placedown on the front seat, and then the townofficers filed through the great throng ofpeople, who stood close and packed inthat little hall. They came up on theplatform, formed a half circle around it,and the mayor of the town, the "chairmanof the Selectmen" in New England, tookhis seat in the middle of that half circle.He was an old man, his hair was gray;he never held an office before in his life.He thought that an office was all heneeded to be a truly great man, and whenhe came up he adjusted his powerfulspectacles and glanced calmly aroundthe audience with amazing dignity.

Suddenly his eyes fell upon me, and thenthe good old man came right forwardand invited me to come up on the standwith the town officers. Invited me up onthe stand! No town officer ever tooknotice of me before I went to war. Now,I should not say that. One town officerwas there who advised the teacher to"whale" me, but I mean no "honorablemention." So I was invited up on thestand with the town officers. I took myseat and let my sword fall on the floor,and folded my arms across my breastand waited to be received. Napoleon theFifth! Pride goeth before destruction anda fall. When I had gotten my seat and allbecame silent through the hall, thechairman of the Selectmen arose and

came forward with great dignity to thetable, and we all supposed he wouldintroduce the Congregational minister,who was the only orator in the town, andwho would give the oration to thereturning soldiers. But, friends, youshould have seen the surprise that ranover that audience when they discoveredthat this old farmer was going to deliverthat oration himself. He had never madea speech in his life before, but he fellinto the same error that others havefallen into, he seemed to think that theoffice would make him an orator. So hehad written out a speech and walked upand down the pasture until he hadlearned it by heart and frightened thecattle, and he brought that manuscript

with him, and taking it from his pocket,he spread it carefully upon the table.Then he adjusted his spectacles to besure that he might see it, and walked farback on the platform and then steppedforward like this. He must have studiedthe subject much, for he assumed anelocutionary attitude; he rested heavilyupon his left heel, slightly advanced theright foot, threw back his shoulders,opened the organs of speech, andadvanced his right hand at an angle offorty-five. As he stood in thatelocutionary attitude this is just the waythat speech went, this is it precisely.Some of my friends have asked me if Ido not exaggerate it, but I could notexaggerate it. Impossible! This is the

way it went; although I am not here forthe story but the lesson that is back of it:

"Fellow citizens." As soon as heheard his voice, his hand began to shakelike that, his knees began to tremble, andthen he shook all over. He coughed andchoked and finally came around to lookat his manuscript. Then he began again:"Fellow citizens: We—are—we are—we are—we are—We are very happy—we are very happy—we are very happy—to welcome back to their native townthese soldiers who have fought and bled—and come back again to their nativetown. We are especially—we areespecially—we are especially—we areespecially pleased to see with us to-daythis young hero (that meant me)—this

young hero who in imagination (friends,remember, he said "imagination," for ifhe had not said that, I would not beegotistical enough to refer to it)—thisyoung hero who, in imagination, we haveseen leading his troops—leading—wehave seen leading—we have seenleading his troops on to the deadlybreach. We have seen his shining—hisshining—we have seen his shining—wehave seen his shining—his shiningsword—flashing in the sunlight as heshouted to his troops, 'Come on!'"

Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear! How littlethat good, old man knew about war. If hehad known anything about war, he oughtto have known what any soldier in thisaudience knows is true, that it is next to

a crime for an officer of infantry ever intime of danger to go ahead of his men. I,with my shining sword flashing in thesunlight, shouting to my troops: "Comeon." I never did it. Do you suppose Iwould go ahead of my men to be shot inthe front by the enemy and in the back bymy own men? That is no place for anofficer. The place for the officer isbehind the private soldier in actualfighting. How often, as a staff officer, Irode down the line when the Rebel cryand yell was coming out of the woods,sweeping along over the fields, andshouted, "Officers to the rear! Officersto the rear!" and then every officer goesbehind the line of battle, and the higherthe officer's rank, the farther behind he

goes. Not because he is any the lessbrave, but because the laws of warrequire that to be done. If the generalcame up on the front line and were killedyou would lose your battle anyhow,because he has the plan of the battle inhis brain, and must be kept incomparative safety. I, with my "shiningsword flashing in the sunlight." Ah!There sat in the hall that day men whohad given that boy their last hard-tack,who had carried him on their backsthrough deep rivers. But some were notthere; they had gone down to death fortheir country. The speaker mentionedthem, but they were but little noticed,and yet they had gone down to death fortheir country, gone down for a cause they

believed was right and still believe wasright, though I grant to the other side thesame that I ask for myself. Yet these menwho had actually died for their countrywere little noticed, and the hero of thehour was this boy. Why was he the hero?Simply because that man fell into thatsame foolishness. This boy was anofficer, and those were only privatesoldiers. I learned a lesson that I willnever forget. Greatness consists not inholding some office; greatness reallyconsists in doing some great deed withlittle means, in the accomplishment ofvast purposes from the private ranks oflife; that is true greatness. He who cangive to this people better streets, betterhomes, better schools, better churches,

more religion, more of happiness, moreof God, he that can be a blessing to thecommunity in which he lives to-nightwill be great anywhere, but he whocannot be a blessing where he now liveswill never be great anywhere on the faceof God's earth. "We live in deeds, notyears, in feeling, not in figures on a dial;in thoughts, not breaths; we should counttime by heart throbs, in the cause ofright." Bailey says: "He most lives whothinks most."

If you forget everything I have said toyou, do not forget this, because itcontains more in two lines than all Ihave said. Bailey says: "He most liveswho thinks most, who feels the noblest,and who acts the best."

VICTOR HUGO

HONORE DE BALZACDelivered at the Funeral of Balzac,

August 20, 1850.Gentlemen: The man who now goes

down into this tomb is one of those towhom public grief pays homage.

In one day all fictions have vanished.The eye is fixed not only on the headsthat reign, but on heads that think, and thewhole country is moved when one ofthose heads disappears. To-day we havea people in black because of the death ofthe man of talent; a nation in mourningfor a man of genius.

Gentlemen, the name of Balzac willbe mingled in the luminous trace our

epoch will leave across the future.Balzac was one of that powerful

generation of writers of the nineteenthcentury who came after Napoleon, as theillustrious Pleiad of the seventeenthcentury came after Richelieu,—as if inthe development of civilization therewere a law which gives conquerors bythe intellect as successors to conquerorsby the sword.

Balzac was one of the first among thegreatest, one of the highest among thebest. This is not the place to tell all thatconstituted this splendid and sovereignintelligence. All his books form but onebook,—a book living, luminous,profound, where one sees coming andgoing and marching and moving, with I

know not what of the formidable andterrible, mixed with the real, all ourcontemporary civilization;—amarvelous book which the poet entitled"a comedy" and which he could havecalled history; which takes all forms andall style, which surpasses Tacitus andSuetonius; which traversesBeaumarchais and reaches Rabelais;—abook which realizes observation andimagination, which lavishes the true, theesoteric, the commonplace, the trivial,the material, and which at times throughall realities, swiftly and grandly rentaway, allows us all at once a glimpse ofa most sombre and tragic ideal.Unknown to himself, whether he wishedit or not, whether he consented or not,

the author of this immense and strangework is one of the strong race ofRevolutionist writers. Balzac goesstraight to the goal.

Body to body he seizes modernsociety; from all he wrests something,from these an illusion, from those ahope; from one a catch-word, fromanother a mask. He ransacked vice, hedissected passion. He searched out andsounded man, soul, heart, entrails, brain,—the abyss that each one has withinhimself. And by grace of his free andvigorous nature; by a privilege of theintellect of our time, which, having seenrevolutions face to face, can see moreclearly the destiny of humanity andcomprehend Providence better,—Balzac

redeemed himself smiling and severefrom those formidable studies whichproduced melancholy in Moliere andmisanthropy in Rousseau.

This is what he has accomplishedamong us, this is the work which he hasleft us,—a work lofty and solid,—amonument robustly piled in layers ofgranite, from the height of whichhereafter his renown shall shine insplendor. Great men make their ownpedestal, the future will be answerablefor the statue.

His death stupefied Paris! Only a fewmonths ago he had come back to France.Feeling that he was dying, he wished tosee his country again, as one who wouldembrace his mother on the eve of a

distant voyage. His life was short, butfull, more filled with deeds than days.

Alas! this powerful worker, neverfatigued, this philosopher, this thinker,this poet, this genius, has lived among usthat life of storm, of strife, of quarrelsand combats, common in all times to allgreat men. To-day he is at peace. Heescapes contention and hatred. On thesame day he enters into glory and thetomb. Thereafter beyond the clouds,which are above our heads, he willshine among the stars of his country. Allyou who are here, are you not tempted toenvy him?

Whatever may be our grief inpresence of such a loss, let us acceptthese catastrophes with resignation! Let

us accept in it whatever is distressingand severe; it is good perhaps, it isnecessary perhaps, in an epoch like ours,that from time to time the great deadshall communicate to spirits devouredwith skepticism and doubt, a religiousfervor. Providence knows what it doeswhen it puts the people face to face withthe supreme mystery and when it givesthem death to reflect on,—death which issupreme equality, as it is also supremeliberty. Providence knows what it does,since it is the greatest of all instructors.

There can be but austere and seriousthoughts in all hearts when a sublimespirit makes its majestic entrance intoanother life, when one of those beingswho have long soared above the crowd

on the visible wings of genius, spreadingall at once other wings which we did notsee, plunges swiftly into the unknown.

No, it is not the unknown; no, I havesaid it on another sad occasion and Ishall repeat it to-day, it is not night, it islight. It is not the end, it is the beginning!It is not extinction, it is eternity! Is it nottrue, my hearers, such tombs as thisdemonstrate immortality? In presence ofthe illustrious dead, we feel moredistinctly the divine destiny of thatintelligence which traverses the earth tosuffer and to purify itself,—which wecall man.

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[1] From an editorial by D.C. in Leslie'sWeekly, June 4, 1914. Used bypermission.

[2] Those who sat in the pit or theparquet.

[3] Hamlet, Act III, Scene 2.

[4] See chapter on "Increasing theVocabulary."

[5] Money.

[6] School and College Speaker,Mitchell.

[7] School and College Speaker,Mitchell.

[8] How to Attract and Hold anAudience, J. Berg Esenwein.

[9] Used by permission.

[10] How to Attract and Hold anAudience, J. Berg Esenwein.

[11] Adapted from Competition-Rhetoric, Scott and Denny, p. 241.

[12] Argumentation will be outlinedfully in subsequent chapter.

[13] The Working Principles ofRhetoric, J.F. Genung.

[14] How to Attract and Hold anAudience, J. Berg Esenwein.

[15] On the various types of definitionsee any college manual of Rhetoric.

[16] Quoted in The Working Principlesof Rhetoric, J.F. Genung.

[17] Quoted in The Working Principlesof Rhetoric, J.F. Genung.

[18] G.C.V. Holmes, quoted inSpecimens of Exposition, H. Lamont.

[19] Effective Speaking, Arthur EdwardPhillips. This work covers thepreparation of public speech in a veryhelpful way.

[20] Writing the Short-Story, J. BergEsenwein.

[21] For fuller treatment of Descriptionsee Genung's Working Principles ofRhetoric, Albright's DescriptiveWriting, Bates' Talks on WritingEnglish, first and second series, and anyadvanced rhetoric.

[22] See also The Art of Versification,J. Berg Esenwein and Mary EleanorRoberts, pp. 28-35; and Writing theShort-Story, J. Berg Esenwein, pp. 152-162; 231-240.

[23] In the Military College of Modena.

[24] This figure of speech is known as"Vision."

[25] How to Attract and Hold anAudience, J. Berg Esenwein.

[26] McCosh's Logic is a helpfulvolume, and not too technical for thebeginner. A brief digest of logicalprinciples as applied to public speakingis contained in How to Attract and Holdan Audience, by J. Berg Esenwein.

[27] For those who would make afurther study of the syllogism thefollowing rules are given: 1. In asyllogism there should be only threeterms. 2. Of these three only one can bethe middle term. 3. One premise must beaffirmative. 4. The conclusion must benegative if either premise is negative. 5.To prove a negative, one of the premisesmust be negative. Summary ofRegulating Principles: 1. Terms whichagree with the same thing agree witheach other; and when only one of twoterms agrees with a third term, the twoterms disagree with each other. 2."Whatever is affirmed of a class may beaffirmed of all the members of thatclass," and "Whatever is denied of a

class may be denied of all the membersof that class."

[28] All the speakers were from BrownUniversity. The affirmative briefs wereused in debate with the DartmouthCollege team, and the negative briefswere used in debate with the WilliamsCollege team. From The Speaker, bypermission.

[29] Sesame and Lilies.

[30] Inquiries into Human Faculty.

[31] Consult any good rhetoric. Anunabridged dictionary will also be ofhelp.

[32] For a full discussion of the formsee, The Art of Story-Writing, by J. Berg

Esenwein and Mary D. Chambers.

[33] How to Attract and Hold anAudience, J. Berg Esenwein.

[34] A book of synonyms and antonymsis in preparation for this series, "TheWriter's Library."

[35] Composition and Rhetoric, J.M.Hart.

[36] See also page 205.

[37] Saguntum was a city of Iberia(Spain) in alliance with Rome.Hannibal, in spite of Rome's warnings in219 B.C., laid siege to and captured it.This became the immediate cause of thewar which Rome declared againstCarthage.

[38] From his speech in Washington onMarch 13, 1905, before the NationalCongress of Mothers. Printed from acopy furnished by the president for thiscollection, in response to a request.

[39] Used by permission.

[40] Reported by A. Russell Smith andHarry E. Greager. Used by permission.On May 21, 1914, when Dr. Conwelldelivered this lecture for the fivethousandth time, Mr. John Wanamakersaid that if the proceeds had been put outat compound interest the sum wouldaggregate eight millions of dollars. Dr.Conwell has uniformly devoted hislecturing income to works ofbenevolence.

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