EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING

Methods of Preparation for public speaking may be grouped under four heads. 
(1)Writing out the discourse, and then Reading it. Only by courtesy can this be called speaking at all. Its ADVANTAGES are :
•	It insures study. 
•	
A man may talk at random, and never find it out ; but if he write his address he must have some connection of thought, and be led to some consideration. 
•	It secures complete treatment. 
•	
The man finds it most difficult to say what he wants to, who is overflowing with ideas that he has not thoroughly systematized. He that knows nothing of a subject can look up a few ideas and deliver them with much more effect than he that knows a hundred times as much of it, but is overwhelmed by the torrent of thoughts that come surging for utterance. In writing his address the latter has opportunity to measure his words by the time at his disposal, and to portion out his moments according to the relative importance of each subdivision. 
Sir Boyle Roche, whose speeches have so long been a thesaurus to rhetorical writers of illustrations of rhetorical blunders, was not void of thought, even in the well-known instance of his inquiry, "What has posterity done for us ? " He had a thought which was entirely logical to his purpose. It was that of the reasonableness of reciprocity of service. Probably he was driven into a
538 EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING. [Pear V. 
vacuity of thought by the burst of laughter which followed, and which he met by explaining, "By posterity, sir, I do not mean our ancestors, but those who are to come immediately after. " One of the aims of conquest in the mastery of extemporaneous speech is that of beating back the rush and trampling of thoughts which huddle themselves into these bovine forms of style. ”hums. 
Thomas Bradley of the Sydney Legislative Council found fault with the newspaper reporters on the ground that they did not give the speeches accurately. Therefore they took great pains to report his remarks verbatim. The following is the passage :
The reporters—ought not to—the reporters ought not to be the ones to judge of what is important—not to say what should be left out—but—the member can only judge of what is important As I—as my speeches—as the reports—as what I say is reported sometimes, no one—nobody can understand from the reports—what it is—what I mean
-
Even Daniel Webster was known to fail when he had insufficient time for preparation, though when he delivered the following speech at Rochester, he is said to have been under the influence of the cup that cheers and does inebriate :
Men of Rochester, I am glad to see you, and I am glad to see your noble city. Gentlemen, I saw your falls, which, I am told, are a hundred and fifty feet high. Gentle. men, Rome had her Caesar, her Scipio, and her Brutus. but Rome in her proudest day never had a waterfall a hundred and fifty feet high Gentlemen, Grooms had her Demosthenes, her Pericles, her Socrates, but Greece in her pahniest days never had a waterfall a hundred and fifty feet high I Men of Rochester, go on ! No people ever lost their liberties who had a waterfall a hundred and fifty feet high. —Somme DI VXIM. 
The Disadvantages are :
•	It is rigid. 
•	
The happiest feature of a speech is special appropriateness to the time and circumstances (see page 606). To these the written address can be only gnessingly adapted, and when the guess goes wrong (as when it is made to allude to the crowd of people present, 
•	and is delivered before a handful) it becomes ridiculous. Such ad
•	
•	. 
•	
•	dresses have been likened to a heavy piece of ordnance built into the solid wall ofa fortress. If the enemy's vessel happens to come in range it is very effective ; but it can hit only one certain spot. 
•	
•	It lacks spontaneity. 
•	
CHAP. XXVIII. ] PREPARATION. 589
It is only by the fresh feelings of the heart that mankind can be very powerfully affected. What can be more ridiculous than an orator delivering stale indignation, and fervor of a week . old ; turning over whole pages of violent passions, 'written out in German text ; reading the tropes and apostrophes into which he is hurried by the ardor of his mind ; and so affected at a preconcerted line and page that he is unable to proceed any further. —
SIDNEY SMITH. 
An old Scotch lady was told that her minister used notes, but would not believe it. Said one : "Gang into the gallery and see. " She did so, and saw the written sermon. After the luckless preacher had concluded his reading on the last page, he said, "But I will not enlarge. " The old woman called out from her lofty position, "Ye canna, ye canna, for your paper's gien out. "
Besides that the audience are more sure that the thoughts they hear expressed are the genuine emanations of the speaker's mind at the moment, their attention and interest are the more excited by their sympathy with one whom they perceive to be carried forward solely by his own unaided and unremitted efforts, without having any book to refer to ; they view him as a swimmer supported by his own constant exertions ; and in every such ease, if the feat be well accomplished, the surmounting of the difficulty affords great gratification, especially to those who are conscious that they could not do the sante. And one proof that part of the pleasure conveyed does arise from this source is that as spectators of an exhibition of supposed unusual skill in swimming would instantly withdraw most of their interest and admiration if they perceived that the performer was supported by corks, or the like, so would the feelings alter of the hearers of a supposed extemporaneous discourse, as soon as they should perceive or even suspect that the orator had it written down before him. —WHATXLI. 
(0) The inspiration of the audience is lost. 
The mental stimulus of a great assembly in sympathy with the speaker is the noblest inspiration possible to the intellect. This and this alone makes possible the great triumphs of oratory. The speaker that reads what he has written may become a finished essayist, but he will never even conceive of the possibilities of oratory until he has beenlifted out of himself and his previous thought into the surge of living thought that rushes from a thousand eager eyes he sees bent upon him. 
A finished oration, in due proportions, pronounced by master of the ad, is no more an extemporaneous effort than was "Paradise Lost. " Its method and preparation and the grandiose style of delivery are all studied, like Booth'sHamlet. Such were the orations of Demosthenes and Dicer°. Such were Burke's ; and such, we may add, have been all the really great orations into whose origin we can penetrate. We don't yet know
-540EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING. [PART V. 
how Governor Long makes Ms perfect posies of after-dinner speeches, with all their flowers of rhetoric set in due contrast, but some time, we presume, we shall know. Everett followed the classic models ; and from the balanced structure of Ins sentences down to the varying tones of his voice, and to the pathetic use of a handkerchief as fine as a cloud. bewas letter perfect. Webster's preparation was kind of prolonged brooding over a subject He mastered it by slow cogitation, turning it in mind in all interior lights, while phrases slowly formed themselves, and points wore fixed, and illustrations crystallized, and hints of grand images and apostrophes came like dila spirits at his call. The oration was potentially done without putting pen to paper. Mr. Everett relates that the night before Webster replied to Hayne, he felt anxious for his friend's sucoess, and called upon him to ask about his preparation. Mr. Webster exhibited his notes ; they were upon a piece of paper the size of his palm. The effect is a matter of history. The speech was well reported for the National litielligencer, but whoever will look at that report and compare it with the oration as it stands in Mr. Webeter's works, will see with what care, and with what masterly literary art, the great orator elaborated and polished his grand sentences. Webster's speeches grew ; they were not made. Wendell Phillips cannot be wholly indifferent to literary art; but he values it as a means, and not as an end. One can see that he considers the nice refinements of style as filigree work, and a professed phraaemonger as a very unimportant person. With him language is a means of establishing truth and carrying conviction. We cannot speak by authority, but we presume that, though he makes some preparation, the trenchant phrases and the brilliant illustrations come in their matured form at the moment they are uttered. It is a curious coincidence that the great friend of the Irish race is so characteristically Irish in temper and genius. The Irish naturally admire him, partly because of his old friendship for O'Connell, but more, we think, because his fervid eloquence touches the ready sources of sympathy, and produces the rapid and resistless emotions in which this imaginative race delights. When he is aroused, metaphors and tropes are the spontaneous prodacts uf his mind, and the torrent of his impassioned words reminds us of the wonderful eloquence that distinguished the last of the Irish parliamenta. —Boston Saturday Gautier. 
Writing out the _Diee, ouree, and then Committing it to ilfemory. 
Here the speaker has more command of gesture, and can simulate spontaneity. But the labor of committal is extreme and unnecessary, the attention is distracted by the effort of recalling and by nervousness lest the memory should fail, and finally there is an unreality and affectation about it”a seeming instead of a reality” that is fatal to the best effort. 
Appearing without any Written Preparation. 
Here there is great temptation to slight preparation, and great danger of losing control of the subject. Only accomplished speakers should venture to take this risk, nor should they make the venture except before a familiar audience and on a familiar theme. 
CHAP. XXVIII. ] WRITTEN ANALYSIS. ) 541
(4) Analyzing the Subject under Written Heade. 
Full but clear and brief notes are undoubtedly the best preparation for public speaking. Here the treatment is determined, the time is properly apportioned, the thread of the discourse may at any time be recovered, and the confidence the orator feels that he will not be caught at a loss leaves him at liberty to cast himself unreservedly into the most vivid expression he can command. 
Written Analysis :
In order to produce or arrange it well, you mtu3t take your pen in hand. Writing is a whetstone, or flattening engine, which wonderfully stretches ideas, and brings out all their malleableness and ductility. 
On some unforeseen occasion you may, without doubt, after a few moments of reflection, array suddenly the plan of your discourse, and speak appropriately and eloquently. This presupposes, in other respects, that you are well versed in your subject, and that you have in your understanding chains of thought formed by previous meditations ; for it is impossible to extemporize the thoughts, at least during the whole of a discourse. 
But if you have time for preparation, never undertake to speak without having put on paper the frame of what you have to say, the links of your ideas ; and this for two reasons :”the first and weightiest is, that you thus possess your subject better, and accordingly you speak more closely and with less risk of digressions. The second is, that when you write down a thought you analyze it. The division of the subject becomes clear, becomes determi;nate, and a crowd of things which were not before perceived present themselves under the pen. 
Speaking is thinking aloud, but it is more ; it is thinking with method and more distinctly, so that in uttering your ides you not only make others understand it, but you understand it better yourself while spreading it out before your own eyes and unfolding it by word. 
Writing adds more still to speech, giving it more precision, more fixity, more strictness ; and by being forced more closely to examine what you wish to write down you extract hidden relations. 
542 EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING. Mem V. 
you reach greater depths, wherein may be disclosed rich veins or abundant lodes. 
We are able to declare that one is never fully conscious of all that is in one's own thought, except after having written it out. So long as it remains shut up in the inside of the mind, it preserves a certain haziness ; one does not see it completely unfolded, and one cannot consider it on all sides, in each of its facets, in each of its bearings. 
Again, while it merely flies through the air in words, it retains something vague, mobile, and indefinite. Its outlines are loosely drawn, its shape is uncertain, the expression of it is more or less precarious, and there is always something to be added or withdrawn. It is never more than a sketch. Style only gives to thought its just expression, its finished form, and perfect manifestation. ”BAuTenc. 
Bonaparte used to say that he never felt acquitted, after an action had terminated, if he was sensible of having omitted any resource of defense which was clearly within his reach. 
PREPARATION FOR SPEAKING. —Having often heard that the longer
a member sits in the House of Commons without speaking, the harder it is for him to make a beginning, I determined to lose no time in delivering my maiden speech. It had not until last election been my intention to enter Parliament, so that I had never "got up" any political subjects. It was therefore necessary, before any speech could even be planned, that I should take a subject, and study so as to form definite opinions upon it. The following plan I adopted. Having chosen ” for my topic, I read all the debates and pamphlets which could throw any light upon it, and wrote very numerous notes while reading. When this part of the labor was accomplished, I reviewed the notes, turd arranged them under heads in an order which had suggested itself to my mind. I then cast out all that appeared to be irrelevant, and whatever did not make straight for the point at which I wished to aim. 
To make a short schedule of the various heads, together with memoranda of some embellishments and illustrations, was my next care. And when this schedule was clearly imprinted on my mind, I frequently spoke the speech over to myself whilst out walking, in order to accustom myself to various modes of expression. Then
Crasr. DIFFICULTIES. 543
I wrote out the whole speech, bestowing particular care upon the exordium and on the peroration. And lastly I learned these two parts by heart, but never looked again at the rest of the speech. The same plan, leaving much more to the chances of the critical moment, I have found to answer on less important occasions. ” Loran ”, quoted by Mizoram
HE CANNOT MAKE A SPEECH. 
A Texas correspondent is in great trouble of mind because he finds himself unable to make speeches which satisfy his own critical taste in¢oratory. There are so many men who have experienced difficulties like those he describes, and who have suffered from the same sort of mortification at their failure to make a creditable exhibition of themselves when they undertook to address an audience, that it is worthwhile to carefully consider the questions which he propounds in the following letter :
Sometimes, and that very frequently of late, I am called on to make a speech. Let there be a Sabbath-school celebration, a prayer-meeting, or public assembly convened in the neighborhood, or any other similar gathering, where speaking lain order, and just as surely as I am on hand I am called on for a speech. Please do not construe this as a boast. It is not that at all ; but I wish to state my case as plainly as possible. Weil, it makes no difference whether I am prepared or unprepared on these occasions, I find that I have one great difficulty with which to contend, and that is thin: It seems at times to be impossible for me to collect and concentrate my ideas. This always throws me into state of contusion, and it sometimes seems, to use vulgar phrase, as if I could not see an inch before my nose. 
This mortifies me no little, and several times, after an effort, I have carefully reviewed, as beet I could, what I had said, and it would seem as if a ten-year-old boy could have beaten me two to one. Sometimes I ant inclined to lay this to a deficient education, for I never went to school but very little in life ; but then I frequently hear men make real logical speeches who I know have no better education than myself—hare my theory fails. My first oratorical effort was at a school exhibition eight years ago, and I look upon it as my beet. From that time until now I have had to do more or less speaking; but for the last year or two the evil of which I speak is growing on me. I find of late that for eight or ten minutes I can do tolerably well, but if I undertake anything like a practical or logical speech, my ideas become all confused, and I have to quit. 
I am now thirty-five years of age, and in full possession of all my faculties. If you can advise me how to remedy the above evil. I will be placed under many obligations to you for your kind advice ; not that I ever expect to try to make a living by public speaking, but I would like very much to be qualified to speak in a calm, dignified manner whenever called on to do so. RIADIS. 
The trouble with our Texas friend is probably that he tries to make too great a speech. His first attempt at oratory was so sue
541 EXTEMPORANEOUS SPEAKING. [PART V
cessfal that he dreamed of becoming a Demosthenes or a Cicero, and, instead of keeping up the simple, off-hand manner he unconsciously adopted on that occasion, he has been thinking about himself and whether he was making a creditable appearance in his subsequent speeches. He has been too anxious about the effect he was producing to keep his ideas together. He could not think about himself, about what his audience were thinking of him, and about his subject, all at the same time. Of course his ideas became confused under such circumstances. Even in an ordinary conversation between two people, where the speaker is assisted by the remarks, questions, and replies of his interlocutor, nobody can keep up the interest if he makes his self-consciousness manifest, and betrays too much anxiety to create a good impression. To be a really entertaining talker, in public or private, it is necessary that the speaker should forget himself, and discourse spontaneously after he has once secured the sympathy of his hearers. 
Usually when men get on their feet to talk to a crowd, they assume an unnatural manner, and try to put things after a fashion foreign to them, but which they regard as the appropriate one for an orator. They are in a frame of mind which disposes them to embarrassment, and that destroys their ability to speak well. They can no more discourse with force and grace than a bashful boy who is conscious of his dress can make himself entertaining in company. 
But our Texas friend need not conclude that he is necessarily a fool because he cannot make a brilliant off-hand speech, or one which would bear reporting. The men who can do that are very few. At no period are there many first-rate extemporaneous orators, and unless he has a natural gift that way, it is hardly worth his while to undertake to become one. He can, however, by practice, learn to command his thoughts while he is on his feet, and succeed in overcoming his embarrassment in the presence of an audience. Then, if he has anything to say in public, he can say it simply and clearly, and, if he is really in earnest, with a force and directness which will make his hearers forget the mere manner of his oratory. 
Our advice to him, therefore, is never to set out to make a speech unless he has some important points to make ; something
Ca. XXVIII. ] DIFFICULTDES. 645
to say which will be worth listening to, no matter how he may say it. And, above all things, let him never try to interest other people in things in which he has no real interest himself. Nor should he expect his thoughts to come to him without preparation. He must discourse of matters of which he knows, and about which he has reflected, if he expects to engage the attention of intelligent men. It is a good rule, in public and in private, never to undertake the office of teacher, adviser, admonisher, jester, or satirist, unless you have some good reason to suppose you are fitted for the businesa”Neto York Sun. 
TOPICAL ANALYSIS. 
Extemporaneous Spooking. 
Methods of preparation, p. 587. 
1. Writing out the discourse and then reading it, p. 587. 
Advantages :
•	It insures study, p. 587. 
•	
•	It secures complete treatment, p. 587. 
•	
Disadvantages :
•	It is rigid, p. 538. 
•	
•	It lacks spontaneity, p. 538. 
•	
e. The inspiration of the audience is lost, p. 589. 
9. Writing out the discourse and then committing it to memory, p. 540. 8. Appearing without any written preparation, p. 540. 
4. Analysing the subject under written heads, p. 541. 
Written analysis, p. 541. 
HE CANNOTHAKE A SPEECH, p. 548. 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
THE VOICE. 
Demosthenes had three particular defects: (I) weakness of the voice, which he strengthened by declaiming on the sea-shore, amid the roar of waters ; (2) shortness of breath, which he remedied by repeating his orations as he walked up hill ; and (8) a thick, mumbling way of speaking, which he overcame by reading and reciting with pebbles in his mouth. 
The Voiceis an element of oratorical power that no speaker can afford to neglect. Articulation and Pronunciation have already been discussed as elements of Conversation (see page 151). Oratory requires, further, that the voice be strong, and its ends are greatly promoted if the voice is pleasing. 
Strength of Voiceis necessary, that all which is said may be heard, and that the effort of listening may not occupy the attention of the listener, and thus distract it from the thought conveyed. Porter names these inconveniences of a feeble voice :
Laborious listening excites impatience in a hearer that often amounts to vexation. It gives pain :
By sympathy, as the listener shares the fatigue of the speaker. 
By mental labor, in which the invention and industry of the hearer are kept on the stretch to make out by construction the sense of that which was uttered so imperfectly as to reach his ear only in disjointed parts. 
Of Garrick it is said that the habit of speaking gave to his utterance an energy so wonderful that eentenoes end parts of sentences MAon his under Ice? were diegnotly
548 THE VOICE. [Pear V
ble to ten thousand people. It is stated that when Whitenald preached in the open air at Philadelphia, he was heard with tolerable distinctness by perilous across the Delaware, thfeafourtha of a mile away. 
ACQUIREMENT OF A GOOD VOICE. 
The Physiologyof the voice reveals remarkable complexity of construction. 
In the larynx itself are eight muscle's more immediately controlling the tension of the vocal membranes. The tongue and palate contain about twenty more ; the lips and cavity of the mouth comprise ten others. All these, to the number of thirtyeight or forty, are employed directly in the articulate utterance of a sentence. When we add to these the muscles of the thorax, employed indirectly in regulating the stream of air, and advert, lastly, to the various other accessory muscles of the extremities or elsewhere, without some action of which it is difficult if not impossible to speak with any fluency, we have reached a point of complication hardly paralleled by any other of our daily functions. -HaLcomps. 
The lungs are the soliciting agent, the larynx is the vibrative agent, the mouth is the reflective agent. These must act in unison or there is no result. The larynx might be called the mouth of the instrument, the inside of the mouth the pavilion, the lungs the artist. In a violin the larynx would be the string, the lungs the bow, the mouth the instrument itse]f. —Pwatmaz. 
Gordon Holmes thus classifies the organs of speech :
(a) Organs which combine their action to generate sound. 
The air-chamber commanding the motor-element. The chestwalls with their proper muscles ; the lungs ; the bronchial tubes ; and the trachea, or windpipe. 
The larynx, containing the vibrating element. The laryngeal cartilages sustaining the vocal reeds, and the intrinsic and extrinsic muscles acting on them. 
(b) Organs which merely modify sound. 
i. The resomince apparatus, or vocal tube. The ventricles and
CHAP. XXIX. ] READING ALOUD. 549
vestibule of the larynx, the pharynx, mouth, and nose with its accessory cavities. Also, certain movable parts of the boundaries of the vocal tube, viz. , the epiglottis, soft palate, and lower jaw. 
The articulating instrument. The tongue, lips, soft palate, teeth, and lower jaw. 
The vocal apparatus resembles the optic and antic apparatus, differing from them in one essential point ; I. e. , sight and hearing are involuntary. No sooner are our eyes open and there is light, or our ears open and there is a noise, than we see and hear, whether we wish to do so or not. The voice, on the contrary, is under the control of the will ; man speaks only when be chooses. 
There is a second difference ; we cannot see or hear more or leas at pleasure, except by interposing some veil or obstacle between the external world and ourselves. But not so with the voice ; we speak fast or Blow, loud or low ; we regulate the measure of vocal action as well as the action itself. 
Hence, the natural inference is that we cannot be taught to hear or see (I refer to mere material action), and that consequently there is no art of seeing or hearing ; while we may learn to talk, language being susceptible to changes resulting from the will. 
One word will suffice to explain this difference. 
The vocal apparatus is not only an apparatus, it is an Inafrument, like apiano. Now what is the characteristic feature of the piano? The key board is composed of from six and a half to seven octaves, divided into three classes of notes—upper, lower, and middle —whose tones correspond to string': of various rhea. The voice has its keyboard also, divided into two octaves instead of seven, but having its three species of notes like the piano, and its chords of differing else; and we can never play upon the voice properly without study, any more than we can on the piano. 
Let me go even farther. On leaving the hands of a good maker, the piano is a complete and perfect instrument, the sound issuing from it as musical as it is harmonious, when called forth by an artist's fingers. But the little piano given us at birth seldom reaches such perfection. There are miming chortle, squeaky keys, false notes ; so that before we can become good pianists we must turn makers and tuners, and set our instruments In order. —LgeouvE. 
Reading Aloudis perhaps the most indispensable exercise for strengthening the voice. In general this should be done standing, and with as much voice as propriety will admit. 
Read aloud resounding Homer's strain, And wield the thunder of Demosthenes. 
The cheat so exercised, improves in strength, And quick vibrations through the bowels drive The restless blood. —Anusnowa. 
550 THE VOICE. [Pear V. 
PROPER USE OF THE VOICE. 
Breathing is anart that immediately underlies good speaking. This has been admirably shown by M. Legouve, as follows :
Many may think that if there be a natural and instinctive action upon earth with which art has nothing to do it is the act of taking breath. To breathe is to live, and we breathe unconsciously as we live ; and yet no one can read well without breathing properly, and no one can breathe properly without study ; indeed, it is one of the rarest accomplishments in a reader. Let me explain myself. When we breathe in every-day life, the air enters and leaves the lungs like a stream flowing continuously, insensibly, and equably. But this gentle passage of the air through the throat does not suffice to set the vocal chords in vibration, and they are mute like the keys of an untouched piano ; the air must strike them a sharp blow before they will resound, as the fingers strike the keys of the piano. Some of my readers may have heard an 2Eolian harp : it stood in a doorway or window ; if there was no air it was silent, but let the air be condensed into wind, and the strings wake to music. A similar phenomenon °cc. um every time that we speak. We condense and compress the air contained in the lungs, force it into the throat, and this shock produces speech. But this requires more air than the ordinary act of breathing, and we can no longer use the simile of a flowing stream : we must compare the breath to water gushing from a pump, spurting out faster and faster at every stroke of the handle. The usual conditions of breathing are now set aside. The scant supply of air stored away for ordinary breath-taking is insufficient for the energetic act of speech ; a balance must be struck between what we have and what we should have. We must go to headquarters, to the atmosphere itself, and demand the necessary amount of air. This demand is called inhalation ; the act of breathing being divided into two parts—inhalation and expiration. To inhale is to gain a supply for future need ; to exhale, to expend that provision. 
Each of these is an act in itself. The art of inhalation consists in drawing breath from the very base of the lungs, from the die
CHAP. xxrx. ]	BREATHING. 551
phragm ; for if we breathe from the upper part of the lungs only, we obtain too small a supply of air, which is soon exhausted, and if we have a lengthy passage to read we are in the condition of a traveler in the desert who starts with his water-skins but half full —breath fails us ; we are obliged to pause and take in a fresh stock, which is fatiguing both to ourselves and to others, as we shall presently see. The first duty of the reader who is to fill a long programme is to take a deep breath at the start, to be sure that his lungs are well furnished. Then comes the second and most difficult part—expenditure of this breath. A bad reader does not take breath often enough, and spends it too freely ; he throws this precious treasure out of the window, as it were, squandering it as a spendthrift his gold. The result is that the speaker, reader, actor, or singer, as the case may be, is continually at the pump, giving sudden gasps, which are most disagreeable to his audience. 
An accomplished singer of my acquaintance bad this failing ; he was constantly taking breath, and the bellows-like sound mingled with his singing was unendurable. He finally perceived and corrected his mistake, proving that it may be cured. U. Stockhausen, an eminent artist, astonished all the Swiss guides by never losing breath in climbing the steepest mountains. "My secret is simple one, " said he ; "I understand the art of breathing. " The great singer, Rubin', wise thorough master of the art. No one ever heard hint breathe. The following anecdote of Talma may serve to explain this seeming mystery :
While a young man, Telma played Diderot's "Pere de Famille, " and on reaching the famous speech, "Fifteen hundred pounds year and my Sophy, " he burst out, stormed, raged, and finally hurrying behind the scenes in a state of complete exhaustion, sank against the wall, panting like an ox. 
"Fool " said Mole, who was standing by, "end you pretend to play tragedy Come to me to-morrow, and I'll teach you how to be impassioned without getting out of breath. "
Telma went ; but, whether the master lacked patience or the pupil docility, the lesson did him little good. At that time there was an actor at the theatre named Dorival ; thin, ugly, and weakvoiced, he was nevertheless quite successful as a tragedian. "how does that fellow manage ? " thought Talma. "I am ten times as strong, and yet I fatigue myself ten times more. I must ask him his secret. " Dorival baffled his querist by this bitter-sweet reply, which has a smack of envy in It: "0 I you are so successful, Telma, that you need no lemons. "
"I'll make you give me one, though. " muttered Telma ; and the next time that Dorival played /liana/in in "Zaire, " the young man hid himself—guess where I in the prompter's box, where he could hear and see without being seen. There he watched and studied to such good purpose that, after the great speech in the second act, be left his poet, exclaiming, "I've got it IFoe pot is / ' He saw that Derives whole art lay in his genius for breathing, which led him Wimp( to take breath before his lungs were quite empty, and, to conceal this repeated inhalation from the public; he strove to place
552 THE VOICE. [PART V. 
it before a, e, or o—that is, at places where. his month being already open, he could breathe lightly and imperceptibly. 
We see what an immense part the breath has to play in elocutionary art its ralesare the only inviolable ones. An actor launched on a stormy peerage, carried away by passion, may forget the laws of punctuation, confound commas and periods and ha-ten bedlong to the conclusion of his phrase ; but he must always be master of his breath, even when be seems to lose it ; an accomplished actor is never out of breath except in appearance and for effect. 
Talmo reduced these rules to striking maxim : "The artist who tires himself is no genius. "
I hear my reader's objection : "This art may be very useful to an actor; but we aretalking of reading, not the theatre. " Yea but the reader needs it yet more than the actor ; for, long and important as the latter's part may be, he always has times of forced rest. He is client when others speak, and his very gestures, added to his words, help to make them true and touching. But the reader often goes on for an hour without prima the immobility of his body obliging him to draw all his power from his will alone. Consider, therefore, whether it is useless for him to understand the management of that precious breath which alone can carry him triumphantly and =aired to the end. 
Here is a curious example of the science of economy applied to the breath. Take a lighted candle, stand in trout of it, and sing a; the light will scarcely dicker: but, instead of single tone, sing a scale, and you will see the candle quiver at every note. The singer, Halle Bedie, runs up and down the scale before a flame, and it never wavers. This Is because he permits only the exact amount of breath to escape which is requisite to force the sound straight forward ; and the air, being thus occupied in the emission of the note, loses its quality of wind, and is reduced to its quality of sound. You or I. on the contrary, waste great deal of breath, and send the sound right and left, as well ss forward. From this elocutionary rule we may deduce a moral lesson : In every act of life spend no more than the exact amount of energy required! Every mental emotion is jewel. Let us heard them up for fitting use. How many people waste, in impatience and petty strife, the treasure of anger, so sacred when it becomes righteous wrath !
Now for a few final and most necessary suggestions to readers. To breath easily, choose a high seat. Buried in an easy-chair, it is impossible to breathe from the base of the lungs. I would also say, be careful to sit erect. No one who stoops can breathe otherwise than ill. 
To this admirable exposition of the subject may be added the following practical suggestions:
A full inspiration elevates and expands the chest, and, by descent of the diaphragm, slightly protrudes the abdomen ; and a correct vocal expiration manifests itself, first, in the flattening of the abdomen, and then in its very gradually falling inward, in prolonged expiration—the chest making little or no action downward, even in the most forcible effort. 
CHAP. XXIX. ] CLOSED TEETH. 553
In cases of pulmonary and vocal weakness, the very opposite of this mode of respirtition is generally found to be habitual. The chest falls with every expiration, and has to be again raised when breath is inhaled. The diaphragm is almost a fixture, and the speaker becomes exhausted by the continual muscular effort needed to work the massive frame-work of the chest. The chest should be fully expanded, once for all, before the first word is uttered, and then kept up by frequent imperceptible replenishment of air to the close of the longest sentence or paragraph. In this way speaking becomes, instead of an exhausting labor, one of the most salutary exercises. —Thizz. 
It is to be noted that the percussiveness of good oratorical speech is not due to chest-action—which would be laborious—but to expansibility of the pharynx, the cavity at the back of the mouth and above the throat. Distention of the pharynx may be plainly seen in the neck of a player on the bugle oroornetapiston. —LEI:al:mfr. 
Inspiration is allowable :
i. After all words preceded or followed by an ellipse. 
After words used in apostrophe, as, Sir, Madam. 
After conjunctions and interjections, when there is silence. 
After all transpositions ; for example, to live, one must work. Here the preposition to takes the value of its natural antecedent, work ; that is to say, six degrees, since by inversion it precedes it, and the gesture of the sentence bears wholly on the preposition. 
Before and after incidental phrases. 
vi. When we wish to indicate an emotion. . . . 
The suspensory act expresses reticence and disquietude. A child who has just been corrected deservedly, and who recognizes his fault, expires. Another, corrected unjustly, and who feels grief more than love, inspires. —DELsizrz. 
Closed Teethwill prevent distinct utterance. 
A considerable loss of resonance is the consequence, because the cavity of the mouth is never placed in the best position for reinforcing the laryngeal tones, and also because the sound-waves cannot issue with sufficient freedom to the external air. It is only
554 l'HE VOICE. [PART V. 
necessary to recognize the habit, when existent, in order that the inclination to it may be overcome by the will. "—Hotants. 
The Pitch of voice is a matter of great consequence. To quote again from Legouve :
The auditorium of the Conservatory, said Febvd, resembles an excellent Stradivarius. No violin surpasses it in harmonious resonance. The sounds that you send forth are returned to you by its melodious walls fuller, rounder, softer. Your voice can play on these walls as your fingers play on the keys of a fine musical instrument. Be very careful, therefore, to avoid too high a pitch. And lay down this rule as a principle : Always adapt and proportion your voice not only to the size of the hall in which you speak, but also to its acoustic properties. 
The three varieties of voice known as high, low, and medium, are all indispensable to artistic reading ; but they should be very differently used, their strength being quite unequal. The medium voice is the strongest, most flexible, and natural of the three; indeed, the famous actor Mold once said, "Without the middle register no reputation. " In fact, the medium voice, being the ordinary one, is used to express all the truest and most natural emotions : the lower notes often have great power, the upper notes great brilliancy ; but they should never be used unseasonably. Imight compare the upper notes to the cavalry in an army, to be reserved for sudden, bold attacks, triumphant charges ; the lower notes, like the artillery, are used for feats of strength ; but the true dependence of the army, the element on which the tactician chiefly relies, is the infantry—the medium tones. The first rule in the art of reading establishes the superior value of the middle register. The upper tones are much more fragile, are liable to wear out, or become shrill and discordant if too much used. Sometimes this abuse of the upper notes affects the very judgment of aspeaker. M. Berryer once told me how he lost an excellent case by unconsciously beginning his plea on too high a key. Fatigue soon spread from his larynx to his head, his thoughts became involved, and he losta part of his brain-power, simply because it never occurred to him to descend from the lofty perch to which his voice had climbed at the outset. 
CHAP. XXIX. ] PITCH. 555
Nor is abuse of the lower notes less serious ; it produces monotony and certain dullness and deadness of quality. Telma, when young, was much given to this failing. His voice, though powerful and eloquent, was rather somber ; and it was only by dint of hard study that he raised It from the depths where it naturally lingered. Apropos of this, let me relate an anecdote of my father, who, as I said before, was a fine reader—much of his success at the College of France, where he taught, depending on this talent He often introduced quotations from the great poets of France in his lectures, which won universal applause. This applause, to which he was naturally susceptible, gained him many envious foes, and at last a criticism appeared, as follows : "Yesterday. IL Legouve read two scenes from Racine in his sepulchral voice. " This fell under the notice of one of his friends, K. Parseval Grandmalson, who immediately said : "Dear me, Legouva must be very much vexed at this; I'll go and see him. " He found my father on the sofa in a moat melancholy mood. 
" Oh 1 it's you, is it, my dear Parseval ? "
"Yes. Are you ill. Legouvil ? You look sad. "
"Nol there's nothing the matter ; a slight Dore throat. Tell me, Pareeval, what do you think of my voice?"
"Why, I tnInk it's beautiful, my boy. "
"Yea, yes; but what do you consider its character? Do youcall it a brilliant voice ? "
"Oh, no! not brilliant I I would rather ead it sonorous ; yes, that's it, sonorous. " "Perhaps it would be better to call it grave voice?"
"Grave be it! but not melancholy No!no I not melancholy ! And yet there is a certain—"
"But you don't call it cavernous?"
"Not at all l Still—"
"Oh! I see, " cried my father, "that you agree with that wretched critic, who calls my voice sepulchral!"
The moral of this story is, that from that day forth my father strove to give his lower notes a rest, and to blend them better with the upper and medium tones; and thus he acquired that variety of sound which is at once charming to the listener, and easy for the reader. 
But this intermixture of tone is not the only vocal exercise. The voice must be cultivated in various ways. Cultivation strengthens a weak voice, makes a stiff one flexible, a harsh one soft, and in fact acts upon the speaking voice as musical exercises on the singing voice. We sometimes hear that great artists—M. Duprez, for instance—made their own voices. The expression is incorrect. No one can make a voice who has not one to start with, and this is proved by the fact that the voice is perishable. No voice would ever be lost, could it be made at will ; but it may be changed ; it may gain body, brilliancy, and expression, not only from a series of gymnastics adapted to strengthen the whole organ, but from a certain method of attacking the note. Additional notes may also be gained by study. On one occasion, the famous Malibran, when
556 THE VOICE. [PART V. 
singing the rondo from " Sornnambula, " finished her cadenza with a trill on D in alt, running up from low D, thus embracing three octaves. These three octaves were no natural gift, but the result of long and patient labor. After the concert, someone expressed his admiration of her D in alt, to which she replied : "Well, I've worked hard enough for it. I've been chasing it for a month. I pursued it everywhere—when I was dressing, when I was doing my hair ; and at last I found it in the toe of a shoe that I was putting on ! " Thus we see that art will not only aid us in governing, but also in extending, our kingdom. 
It hardly need be added that the pitch must be wholly wider control of the speaker. The woes of Mr. Orator Puff have been thus set forth:
Mr. Orator Puff had two tones in his voice, 
The one—squeaking thus, and the other down so; In each sentence he utter'd be gave you your choice, For one-half was B alt. , and the rest G below. 
Oh I oh ! Orator Puff, 
One voice for an orator's surely enough. 
But he still talked away. spite of coughs and of frowns, So distracting all ears with his ups and his downs, That a wag once, on hearing the orator say, 
"My voice is for war, " ask'd him, 'WAWA of them, pray?"
Reeling homeward, one evening, top-heavy with gin, And rehearsing his speech on the weight of the crown, He tripp'd near a sawpit, and tumbled right in, 
"Sinking fund, ' the last words as his noddle came down. 
" kits !" he exclaimed, in his he and she tones, 
"Help me out !—help me out have broken my bones!"
"Help you out !" said a Paddy, who pass'd, "what a bother Why, there's two of you there; can't you help one another?"
PRESERVATION OF THE VOICE. 
The Hygieneof the voice is a matter of vital moment to every speaker. 
The story is told of a famous singer that the stage he was riding in tumbled down a precipice. When it had stopped rolling over and over, and our tenor could recover his wits, he rose to a sitting posture, and instantly began to practise the scales. "Thank
_ CHAP. XXIX. I REST. 557
heaven I " he exclaimed, "my high C is here yet ! " And then he proceeded to find out whether any link were broken—a matter of minor consequence. 
Porter gives these rules for the preservation of the voice:
Sustain the general health. 
Spare the vocal organs : (i) keep on the normal key ; rest the organs when inflamed. 
Be rested before speaking ; speak after you have recovered from the labor of preparation. 
Do not speak when hungry, or just after a hearty meal. (e) Especially avoid opening the mouth when going home in the cold air. 
Shuldham, an excellent authority, speaks as follows:
REST AFTER EXERTION. —Now, in this chapter on Hygiene of the Voice, we must give one piece of advice which is more valuable than all the drugs whose names and whose properties we may mention. The advice is as follows : Whenever the voice is tired, give it rest; when the body is tired, do not use the voice. Now, when the voice is tired, it has done too much work ; the nerves say, "Give us peace ; " the muscles echo, "Give us peace. " It is but cruelty to goad these on to further efforts, and if we do, then we shall suffer, as sure as Tuesday follows Monday. Nature will have her revenge ; she will not let the laws of health be violated with impunity. I said, whenever the voice is tired we should give it rest ; better still before it is tired, if this is possible, and it is possible when we are simply exercising it in our quiet rooms at home ; we shall then save ourselves a fatigue that in the pulpit or on the stage would be as mortifying as it is harmful to voice and reputation. Rest is a haven for which we must steer ; rest is the first medicine we must think of ; rest is the true medicine that nature will offer us, and rest is the only medicine that we can take in large quantities and without injury. . . . 
THE PROPES Prrca. —Let, therefore, the clergyman who would avoid the calamity of chronic sore throat go to the piano and sing the diatonic scale until he has found the compass of his voice, and
558THE VOICE. [PART V. 
then let him find the dominant note ; sing the note and two or three notes above and below it, so as to get thoroughly familiar with the whereabouts of the note ; then let him pitch upon it without the help of the piano. Let him afterward find the dominant note with his speaking voice, play a few chords while he executes a kind of recitative that has only a short range, and then let him break fairly into a continuous musical sound on the dominant note. Daily practice of this kind will soon render his voice flexible, and make his ear delicate to the perception of pure sound. It will not merely give flexibility, but also strength to the voice. Indeed, the true and only way to become a musical speaker is to learn the art of song. . . . 
When, therefore, faulty breathing has been corrected, injudicious pitch altered, monotony of voice avoided, then the strain of voice spoken of as a cause of sore throat must disappear also, for undue strain can only in exceptional instances be occasioned when the speaker is master of his craft. . . . 
PROIT. CrION OF THZ THROAT. -It is better to keep the neck free and open from all restraint and all coddling when in health ; but cold once caught, then the catcher of cold cannot be too careful to protect himself against further hurtful influences. 
Care must be taken to protect the throat against the evil influences of cold air immediately after the prolonged use of the voice, . . . for the throat is then in a state of temporary congestion, and therefore in a most impressionable condition. A current of cold air blowing on the speaker's or singer's throat is very apt to cause a chill. A chill is the beginning of all evil to the organs of breath and speech, and therefore it must be strictly avoided. By wrapping a silk handkerchief around the neck, putting on a comfortable great-coat, and breathing through the nose on the exit from the warm room or church to the cold outer air, the speaker or singer will be enabled to set cold air at defiance ; and if the exit is made at night, and there is a walk home, let the speaker's or singer's friends take the part of performers in the inevitable dialogue of a walk home, but let him take the part himself of a well-conducted audience, and keep silence. He may applaud their remarks, if valuable, with an occasional grunt of approbation from the warm recesses of comforter or beard. 
Cam. . =X. ] BREATHING THROUGH THE NOSE. 559
Breathing through the Nose, especially upon
leaving a heated room to enter the cold air, is perhaps more important than any other single rule for the protection of the throat and lungs. 
Such facts indicate clearly that nasal inspiration exerts an important protective power, local and general, over the health. Hence we can understand the fervor with which Professor Tyndall exclaims that if he could leave a perpetual legacy to mankind, he would embody it in the words, "Keep your mouth shut. "
Every precaution should be taken in order to reduce to a minimum the evil of inspiring through the mouth. In speaking, the nostrils will usually furnish enough air, unless in occasional declamations where great vehemence is demanded. That the orator will find assiduous attention to breathing through the nose, whenever practicable, a most effective agent for the preservation of his voice, may be considered as proved by experience, on the testimony of numerous eminent teachers of elocution. We even find that in the last century the knowledge of this hygienic fact, then only recognized by experts, was believed to be of such value to the professional speaker, that it was often sold for a large sum under u pledge of secrecy. —GounoN HOLMES. 
THE VOICE AS AN INTERPRETER. 
I had been criticizing certain poems, and H. Cousin, though agreeing with Me, was surprised by my theories, and asked me bow I came by such notions. 
"By r. sding aloud, " I replied. "The voice is a reverter, an initiator, whose power Ii as marvellous as it is unknown. "
"I do not understand. "
"Let me explain. Dime. Telma, a famous actress of the last oentury—" ' "I've seen her I" cried Cousin. "What soul I What sensibility!"
"Well I lime. Telma tells us in her memoirs that, when playing' Andromache, ' she was once so deeply moved that tears Rowed, not only from the eyesof all her bearers, but from her own as well. The tragedy over, one of her admirers rushed to her box and, grasping her hand, exclaimed : Oh ! my dear friend, it was wonderful I It was Andromache herself ! Cm sure that you really felt yourself in Epirus, Hector's widow
" 'Not a bit of it she replied, with a laugh. 
" And yet you were really affected, for you wept I'
" To be sure I did. '
" ' But why why? What made you weep ?
" My voice. '
" Whet I your Tokio '
560 THE VOICE. [PART V. 
' Yes, my own voice! I was touched by the =premien which my voice gave to the sorrows of Andromache, not by the sorrows themselves. The nervous shiver which traversed my frame was the electric shook produced on my nerves by my own tones. For the time being I was both actress and audience. I magnetized myself. '"
" How strange !" cried Cousin, 
"And how much light the story throws upon the power of voice I Nor was thia feeling peculiar to Mme. Telma. Rachel once made a remark which I can never forget. She was speaking of having recited in the garden at Potsdam before the Czar of Russia. King of Prussia, and other crowned heads, and she said: That audience of kings electrified me. Never were my tones more omnipotent ; myvoice bewitched my ear '
Nor is this all. One of the greatest French actors now living has often told me that he could never reach the pitch of emotion which so deeply stirs his audience if he did not learn his partsby reciting them aloud. His voice electrifies and guides him! And this is the explanation of the seemingly inexplicable fact that actors who are utterly stupid may appear brilliantly on the stage. "
" Impossible I
" I have known such instances! I have seen men of ordinary intellect and sensibility on the stage mould their hearers to their will, and this because their voice knew, felt, and acted for them. Condemn them to silence, and they fall back into mediocrity. It seems as if a little fairy slumbered in their throat, who woke when they spoke, and by waving her nand roused unknown powers in them. The voice is an invisible actor hidden within the actor, a mysterious reader concealed within the reader, and serving both as prompter. I give you this problem to solve, my dear philosopher, but I draw from it this conclusion, which I hope you will grant—that, inferior as I am to you in many respects, I do know La Fontaine better than you, simply because I read him aloud. "
" So be it I "said my friend, smiling ; "but who can Fay that you do not attribute Intentions which they never had to La Fontaine and other great men ?"
"I answer you by a quotation from Corneille. Someone once showed him certain obscore verses of his own composition, asking for an explanation. 'When I wrote them, ' was his artless reply, I understood them perfectly ; but now they are as vague to me as to you. You see that there are certain things in the works of the masters insoluble even by themselves. In the fire of creation, they instinctively use expressions which they do not realize, bat which are none the le-ts true. Genius, like beauty and childhood, is unconscious of self. When a child enchants118 by his innocent smile, he does not know that it is innocent. Does this detract from its charm One of the chief advantages of reading aloud is the fact that it reveals countless little shades of meaning in an author, ignored even by the band that wrote them. In this way the art might be used as a powerful educational instrument. A fine elocution teacher is often an excellent teacher of literature. "
Upon this we parted, M. Cousin uttering words which were very flattering, from such a source : "Thanks, my friend, you have taught me something new!"
TOPICAL ANALYSIS. 
The Voice. 
A feeble roiee gires pain : -
•	By sympathy, p. 547. 
•	
•	By mental labor, p. 547. 
•	
ACQUIREMENT OF A GOOD VOICE, p. 548. 
Organs of speech classified:
a. Organs which generate sound, p. 548. 
•	The air-chamber and appendages, p. 548. 
•	
•	The larynx and appendages, p. 548. 
•	
b. Organs which modify sound, p. 548. 
•	The resonance apparatus and appendages, p. 548. 
•	
•	The articulating instrument, p. 549. 
•	
Reading aloud, p. 549. 
PROPER USE OF THE VOICE, p. 550. 
Breathing, p. 550. 
Allowable :
•	After words preceded or followed by an ellipse, p. 553. 
•	
•	After words used in apostrophe, p 553. 
•	
•	After conjunctions and interjections when there is silence, p. 558. 
•	
•	After all transpositions, p 553. 
•	
•	Before and after incidental phrases, p. 553. 
•	
•	When we wish to indicate emotion, p. 553. 
•	
Closed teeth, p. 553. 
The Pitch, p. 554. 
PRESERVATION OF THE VOICE, p. 556. 
Hygiene of the voice, p. 556. 
Rules:
•	Sustain the general health, p. 557. 
•	
•	Spare the vocal organs, p. 557. 
•	
i Keep on the normal key, p. 557. 
H. Rest the organs when inflamed, p. 557. 
e. Be rested before speaking, p. 557. 
d. Do not speak when hungry, or just after eating, p. 557. es. Avoid opening the mouth when going home in the cold air, p. 557. 
Rest after exertion, p. 557. 
The proper pitch, p. 557. 
Protection of the throat, p. 558. 
Breathing through the nose, p. 559. 
THE VOICEAS AN INTERPRETER, p. 559.