CHAPTER VII.

PECULIARITIES BELONGING TO THE VARIOUS FIELDS OF ORATORY.

The laws which govern extemporaneous speech are so generally applicable to all forms of address that only a few things which are peculiar to each need be considered before pointing out the best modes of planning and delivering a speech.

Probably a sermon differs from the common type of speech more than any other form of address. Some of the distinctions usually made are purely conventional, and not a few are more honored in the breach than in the observance. A certain slowness and stiffness of manner is supposed to characterize the pulpit, and also the selection of grave and solemn tones. All these, so far as they tend to constitute ministers a class apart from other men, with manners and modes of speech peculiar to themselves, are a mere survival of ancient superstition. The preacher’s tone and address should be just such as any other competent speaker would employ in treating the same themes. Of course, when the preacher makes a solemn appeal, voice and action should all correspond in solemnity. But when he denounces sin, or holds vice up to ridicule, there should be an equal correspondence. In some denominations, a peculiar dress is given to the preacher as the garb of his office; and it may be that a peculiar manner will be grateful to those who love all things that have the flavor of antiquity. But all such mannerisms belong to another realm than that of eloquence. From the orator’s standpoint they can only be condemned. Let the preacher speak and act like any other educated gentleman, under like circumstances, and his power over his audiences will be the greater.

But the sermon possesses some real distinctions of importance. The custom of taking a text furnishes a point of departure to the preacher and greatly simplifies the work of introduction. The opening services in the church—the prayers and the music—put his audience into a mood to receive his words. They are calm and quiet when he begins to speak—indeed, this may easily go too far. Another peculiarity is that he has the whole field to himself: neither he nor his auditors expect a word or gesture of dissent from any position he may assume: all the criticisms of his hearers will be mental, or reserved to another occasion. In this, his position is diametrically opposed to that of the lawyer, and the politician, who expect all they say to be contradicted, as a matter of course, and are apt to acquire the fault of uttering self-evident truths in a combative manner, as if they expected the other side to deny even that the whole is greater than any of its parts, or that things each equal to another thing, are equal to each other. The preacher, on the other hand, is liable to utter propositions, which to many of his hearers are very doubtful, as if they were axioms.

The preacher should select a text which fairly covers the subject of his discourse or contributes to advance the object he has in view. The text should always be employed in its true sense. It partakes of the nature of a quotation by which the speaker fortifies his position, and all quotations should bear the meaning intended by their authors, as far as that meaning can be ascertained. This is required by common fairness, and the Bible is surely entitled to fair treatment as much as any other book. Generally the text should be read and treated as a part of the introduction, although some fine sermons have been constructed on the opposite principle of beginning far from the text and so leading up to it, that its perfect illustration or application only appears in the conclusion. No fault can be found with this method if conscientiously adopted and consistently carried out.

The great aim of preaching is persuasion, and this must largely influence its whole character. It is from this cause that emotion—ever the most valuable agent in persuasion—is so highly valued in the pulpit. The hearers are to be persuaded, first to embrace a religious life, and then to cultivate all those virtues and avoid all those evils incident to such a life. It may be proper to devote some time and attention to mere instruction, but that instruction derives all its value from its bearing upon action: it should be given as the means of rendering persuasion more effective. Warning, reproof, exhortation, consolation, promise—the whole field of motives and inducements—is very wide; but the great object is to make men better, and only incidentally to make them wiser or happier.

This peculiar character of preaching renders adherence to extemporaneous speech in the pulpit at once more important and more difficult than anywhere else. The quiet of the church, its solemnity, the fact that the preacher must speak at a given time and has thus the opportunity to write, and that a good sermon dealing with truths always applicable may, when once written, be read to many successive congregations, even after an interval of years;—the fear of jarring upon the associations of the church with any rude sentence or unpolished paragraph thrown off in the hurry of speech:—all these considerations powerfully plead for the manuscript. Yet in hardly any other form of address is the manuscript so hurtful. Extemporaneous speech is pre-eminently the persuasive form of address, and persuasion is the great object of the sermon. If the preacher ceases to be persuasive he may as well cease to preach, so far as the accomplishment of the true function of his office is concerned. The mode pointed out in the following part of this work will, it is believed, enable the extemporaneous preacher to utilize all the persuasiveness that belongs to his character, and at the same time escape all the dangers which have driven so many preachers to manuscript.

The conditions under which lawyers speak are very different. They are tempted by the surroundings of the court-room to set too low a value upon the graces of oratory, while the accomplishment of an immediate purpose engrosses their attention. The judge and jury are before them—a client is to be made victorious, or a criminal to be punished. Keen interest and emotion are supplied by the occasion itself. The law must be explained, the facts elicited and weighed, and the jury persuaded. There is also the great advantage of having the case decided at a definite time. No disposition exists on the part of the jury to postponement. If the lawyer once convinces them that law and evidence are on his side, the verdict follows as a matter of course. But when the preacher gets that far he has scarcely begun. His hearers may admit the truth of every word he speaks and the goodness of the course he advises, but they can comply with his advice at any time, and in that feeling they may postpone their action for years, if not permanently. But the lawyer can press his case on to a decision, which may be resisted for a time by one of the parties, but not by the jury to whom he addresses his arguments, and seldom by the judge.

Lawyers have but little temptation to indulge in written speeches: the exigencies of the trial make formal preparation of little service. The great talent for a lawyer’s purpose is that favored by extemporaneous speech—the power of a clear, orderly statement of facts that are often exceedingly complex. This generally proves more effective than any argument. To grasp all the evidence that has been brought forward, and, putting it into the very simplest form it will bear, to show on that statement to judge and jury that he is entitled to the verdict—this is the great art of the advocate. But his statement must include or account for all the facts; otherwise, he lays himself open to an easy and damaging reply. The method usually adopted is to make a note of each fact elicited, each argument used by the opposite attorney, and each salient point of the case. Then these are reduced to the simplest form, an appropriate introduction sought, and either a strong argument, or an effective summing up, reserved for the conclusion. With this much of preparation the lawyer finds it easy to provide suitable words for the expression of the whole speech.

The speech of the judge in summing up or charging the jury differs only from that of the advocate in the greater impartiality by which it is marked. The most fair-minded attorney will be biased, more or less unconsciously, by the greater care which he bestows upon his own side of the case.

Anniversary, platform, and lyceum lectures have much in common. Entertainment being the prominent object in them all, illustration and embellishment are greatly sought for. Humor is also in most cases highly enjoyed. The same address may be repeated many times and comes to have the finish of a work of art. The great camp-meeting sermons at seaside resorts, at anniversaries, and similar occasions, properly belong to this class rather than to that of sermons. This is the field in which memoriter addresses are usually supposed to be superior to all others. It may be conceded that whenever form rises into more prominence than matter, writing and memorizing will have increasing claims. A speaker who wishes to repeat one speech without substantial variation to a hundred audiences will not find it a great task to write it in full and memorize it. But if he is really a master in spontaneous utterance he need not depart from his usual course. He can fully prepare his materials and then speak the words of the moment, without the least fear of suffering in comparison with the reciter.

Instructive addresses by teachers and professors are nearly always given extempore, with the exception of those written lectures in the higher institutions which are supposed to sum up the results of knowledge in their respective departments. Even then the practice is not uniform, as many professors prefer talking to their pupils rather than reading to them. The practice of reading in such cases is really a survival from the days when books were scarce and high-priced, and the student found it easier to write notes from the lips of some master than to purchase the volumes containing the same knowledge, even when it had been published at all. But the tendency now is to find the statement of the facts of science, art, and literature in books, and depend upon the living teacher only to give vividness, life, and illustration to them. All this can be best done by the extemporaneous method.

Other modes of speech will naturally suggest themselves, but they present nothing peculiar in form. All that can be said about them may be compressed as profitably into the general topics of subject and object, thought-gathering, arrangement, and use of the plan, etc., which occupy the following pages.