spelling or nature, they become real. We hear them ten thousand times and believe them. We see them ten thousand times and love them. We mistake the oral or optical iteration for a law of nature, and make the written form the ultimate reality, a sacred thing to be kept unchanged forever. In every way we live and move in words. And it is a part of complex nature. It is a part of the complex moral law. Our words are, at the last, our ideas; and our ideas are, at the last, our deeds. Thus, in a sense not far different from an older interpretation, it is true and it is just, "that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give an account thereof in the day of judgment. For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."

EDUCATIONAL VALUE OF TRAINING IN PUBLIC
SPEAKING

THOMAS C. TRUEBLOOD, PROFESSOR OF ORATORY, UNIVERSITY OF
MICHIGAN, ANN ARBOR, MICH.

I have been invited to speak to you this morning upon some phase of spoken English, and I have chosen as my theme "Training in Public Speaking." As the systematic study of this art has been but recently introduced in many of our colleges and universities and in a great number of secondary schools, I have thought that some suggestions on the educational value of sound training in public speaking might not be unwelcome from one who has devoted many years to the teaching of young collegians.

As speaking involves the whole man-body, soul and spirit—I shall treat the subject from three standpoints: the value of training from the standpoint of the physical, the intellectual, and the moral.

Students of public speaking, if they would be well-rounded men, must take into account the physical side of their work. There are certain elements of strength, not required by the athlete or even by the man of physical competency, which are essential to the speaker.

The practice of this art develops to a high degree the organs of respiration. While the athlete strives for lung capacity and the power to sustain the breath for great physical effort, the trained speaker must gain a certain breath-propelling power and the ability to sustain the voice in steady, economic tone-production. Such discipline is not only necessary to strong vocal power, but is a prime element of good health and fine spirits.

An educational advantage, apparent to everyone, is that which comes to the student from vocal discipline. While such discipline is not wholly physical, the mental and spiritual claiming a part, yet it is largely physical. The voice must be trained for purity, compass, strength, and mellowIt is a physical process to discipline the throat muscles, enlarge

ness.

the cavities of resonance, strengthen the fiber of the vocal chords, and make firm by exercise the membranes of the throat and nasal cavities. It is a physical process to join easily the various parts of the speaking compass into flexible speech-notes. It is a physical process to learn so to control the vocal organs as to avoid breathiness and hollowness of tone. Clearness of tone-production, which comes from vocal exercise under careful direction, is a great saver of strength; for breathy tones cause too frequent respirations, result in overstimulation of the brain, and are therefore weakening. The same may be said of poor enunciation.. Where the organs of articulation are not held firmly in contact, there is a waste of tone and breath, and a consequent waste of vitality. We cannot strengthen articulation, lung power, and vocal power without benefiting the whole. system, for it is a well-known fact that right speaking is a benefit rather than a detriment to the health. The late Doctor Studly, one of the most prominent Methodist divines, whose Bible and hymn reading were a revelation and who possessed the finest voice I ever heard in the pulpit, gained his power by daily practice in reading aloud. He once said to me: "I often begin a play of Shakespeare and read it quite thru before I awaken to the fact that I must be at my sermons."

On the other hand, the physical effects of wrong speaking are often disastrous. We have but to recall the numerous instances of ministers who have had to give up their work because of wasting throat diseases. What shall we say to one about to give up in despair for lack of vocal strength? Would you send him to a physician? Nine times in ten he should go to the teacher of oratory. It is not a course of medication he needs so much as a course in common-sense methods of speaking. Countless are the instances of men who, after having changed their methods of speaking, have been able to resume their labors and do more and harder work than ever before. Did you ever hear of a preacher's having to give up ordinary conversation with his family and friends on account of throat trouble? Had he employed in the pulpit a style of speaking based on conversation, and not sought some ethereal way of addressing his audience, there would have been little cause for his giving up.

But this state of affairs is not confined to the preachers. I myself can give testimony to the curative effects of proper vocal training. For eleven months, on account of wrong methods of voice-production taught me in the beginning, I was unable to pursue my chosen work, and should have had to give it up had I not then come under the instruction of the venerated Murdoch, to whose methods I attribute complete recovery. So what I am saying is not mere theory, but a conclusion reached by careful observation and a sad experience which enables me to give personal testimony.

Then again, bounding vocal health has a reflex action upon the spirits of the speaker, and in due proportion upon his audience. Recall the

discomfort and the chagrin you have experienced when you desired very much to hear some distinguished scholar, who, for lack of voice and method, was unable to be heard. For this very reason Matthew Arnold was obliged to cancel his engagements to lecture in America. He could not be heard. The ring and penetrative power that sound vocal training would have given were wanting in him. These elements make it a source of pleasure to listen to a speaker, and the ease of listening reflects upon and stimulates the one speaking.

Another element, not so clearly physical, but yet so closely connected with our work that I cannot leave it unmentioned, is nerve-power, selfcontrol. As public speaking is more or less a nervous strain, I hold it to be the duty of educators to know something of those simple laws which, if well followed, will avoid nervous waste and conserve the energies of the speaker. There are reckless public speakers, as well as reckless men in other walks of life. One of our most famous preachers today, when remonstrated with for doing the work of three men, laughingly remarked: "The men that have been advising me thus for the last twelve years are nearly all dead." But he is now paying the penalty of thus disregarding natural laws, and perhaps after a few more years of enforced rest he may regain sufficient vigor to go on with his work, but he can never quite reach his former powers. To the speaker, of all men, nerve-power is essential. What are some of the precautions that may add to the speaker's effectiveness ?

In the first place, in preparing an address, he should not study up to the last moment. The worry about a speech up to the time of speaking is one of the severest strains a man has to endure. It is not the speak ing that hurts, it is the waiting for it, the awful feeling of expectancy. Carlyle once remonstrated with a neighbor for keeping peacocks that screamed so loud. "Why," said his neighbor," they scream but about twice in twenty-four hours." "But consider the agony I undergo in waiting for that scream."

He should be out on lakes, in the art galleries, The mind unconsciously One gets condition with

The day before a speech ought to be play-day. Saturday and Monday should be days of recreation for the preacher. They should be devoted to social, intellectual, and physical exhilaration. the hills, in the woods, along the streams and on the golf links, or watching college sports. collects vital force from the complete change. out thinking about it, and that is the best kind of condition. The preacher, the lawyer, the orator, all would fare better by resting and by recreation before their efforts. A tired memory is like a tired horse. It is not alert and cannot be goaded into its best work.

The study of these physical elements is noble when undertaken with a view to rendering the body a fit instrument to serve the purpose of the heart. Fine speeches often accomplish nothing, for lack of physical

force. Most persuasive men are of strong physical development, with good digestion and great lung power, power to thrust truth out at men and give "lunge" to their speaking. It takes a vigorous, vital man to arouse and re-fashion. The best condition for eloquence is a perfect state of health.

Phillips Brooks declares that "the training of the full body is a part of that total self-consecration which makes one the medium thru which

God may reach His children. Be alive, not dead. Do everything to keep the vitality at its fullest." Beecher says that "while it is important to train for thought and matter, it is only second in importance to train for condition," and Spurgeon once said: "I believe that everyone should train his voice and body, first, for the health it affords; second, for its educating effects; third, for the advantage it gives over others for usefulness."

I have spoken thus fully upon the physical side of our art, because I feel that we do not altogether appreciate that side. But what are the gains intellectually?

First, I believe that a knowledge of the underlying principles of public speaking is a mental developinent equal to and quite as useful as that offered by any of the liberal sciences. Correct speaking is based upon certain principles. These principles have been discovered and formulated by the pioneers of the art, and may be mastered and applied by young students. It is the heritage of the generations present and to come to reach results, not by accidental means, but by pursuing the philosophy of correct speaking. These principles may become as much a part of us as the principles of rhetoric or logic or music. And no one will say that these subjects are not founded on basic principles, and that it is not an intellectual accomplishment to understand them.

Then, the student of public speaking deals with general literature, and particularly with the master orations of all time. The study of a great oration leads him to seek the purpose of the speech, the historic events of the time, and the special occasion that called it forth; leads him to select and to commit those passages which embody the dominant thought, and that appeal most strongly to him. The delivery of these passages with a spirit aroused by a full appreciation of the circumstances that led to their utterance is nothing short of eloquence. I have heard such passages delivered by students who so transfused their spirit into my spirit that I have tingled from head to foot, and have felt that I could not have been more aroused by the orator himself. If such a man can grow eloquent with the words of another, he can be eloquent himself under like conditions.

Furthermore, a close study of master orations reveals their structure. The ability to discover the plan of a speech and put it into form is a step toward formulating one's own thought on some question of the hour. It

stimulates the power to put things together, to deduce arguments and follow a chain of reasoning to its conclusion. This is progress in public speaking greatly to be desired, for it develops the logical faculty, the highest mental act. It should be remembered that our masterpieces of oratory are the best prose we have. Where is the prose on this side of the Atlantic that can match the speech of Patrick Henry in the Virginia convention, the Bunker Hill orations of Webster, Lincoln's Gettysburg address, Sumner's "True Grandeur of Nations," and Phillips on the "Murder of Lovejoy"? The walls of every schoolhouse in the land ring with these classics, and their phrases, like our national songs, become the highest expression of our patriotism.

Another highly intellectual process is the construction and delivery of speeches. This is purely creative. There is no higher intellectual accomplishment than to be able to convince men and move them to action. That is the gift that made Hamilton, Webster, Clay, and Lincoln supreme. That is the gift that today is helping men to preferment. The man that can speak well gathers clients. Whether in court or in Congress, the people place their affairs in the hands of the skilful advocate. And I believe it to be the duty of educators to strengthen this side of men, to contribute in as large measure as possible to the success of those professions that demand speaking. Schools and departments of oratory that neglect this side of expression should either abolish the name or come up to it.

Another advantage to be gained by training in public speaking is the development of style. Just as that style of delivery is the best which calls least attention to itself, so that literary style is best which is "least obtrusive, which lets thru the truth most nearly in its absolute purity." Involved, circuitous sentences, even tho rhythmical and well-balanced, tend to cloud the understanding and tax the attention. Beecher, in his lectures to Yale students, says: "Don't whip with a switch that has the leaves on if you want to tingle. I have known men whose style was magnificent when they were once thoroly mad. Temper straightened out all the curls and made their sentences straight as a lance."

I once heard the president of a theological seminary say to his students: "If you want to study style, go out and watch the boys play marbles. Their language is not always chaste or parliamentary, but it is direct and forcible and instantly understood." Emerson declares that the language of the street is superior in force to that of the academy, and bewails the fact that scholars do not convey their meaning in terms as short and strong as the porter or truckman. He says that the moment an orator rises to any height of thought or passion, he descends to the language level of his audience. This, I believe, is the very essence of vigorous style. The common people must be reached in home-bred Anglo-Saxon words, words that strike the imagination, words that awaken "ineffable and tremulous memories."