The oratorical class-book

Front matter

aass_^l__ _i—

Book -4

7 -7

Preface

Elocution seems at length to have obtained its proper rank in public opinion, and to be reckoned, not merely an ornamental, but a necessary and useful branch of polite education: and, indeed, it seems not a little surprising — in a country where all other literary pursuits are so eagerly and so successfully cultivated, where the pages of philophers, historians, orators, and poets, vie with the most splendid productions of Greece and Rome, — that this art, so essential, to public speakers at least, should have remained so long neglected, while its utility is universally acknowledged: more especially, in a country, which, in every respect, affords more scope for the display of oratory, than any other kingdom in Europe. We do not deny that " Loquendi recte, sapere est et principium et \ fons;" yet, while we grant this, we maintain that no man has ever so much as approached the perfection of oratory, without having paid the most minute attention to his Bfeery: — but as we have sufficiently expressed our senents concerning this subject, in the following " Introduction," we shall not provoke the impatience of our readers, by reiterating them here.

As, in this work, our ambition is, to be thought rather useful than original, we have endeavored to profit by every thing that has been already written on the subject by any

VI PREFACE.

author of note, particularly by the celebrated Mr. Walker, to whose single exertions we confess ourselves more indebted, for any knowledge we possess of the science of speaking, than to all that has been said upon it by all other authors put together.

We have taken the liberty to alter the words in many parts of some of the extracts, where the language appeared to us inelegant or ungrammatical, when we could do so without perverting the author's meaning: and we trust it will be seen, that we have not been indifferent to the principles that may be imbibed by a frequent perusal of the lessons.

We think it unnecessary to state the reasons that induced us to publish the following Compilation. It is sufficient, that we considered something of the kind still wanted, notwithstanding the numerous Selections already in use. We cannot be accused of more vanity or more partiality than our neighbors, tho we claim the privilege of thinking more of our own than of any thing of the kind now before the public. Of its merits, however, the public will, of course, judge for themselves; and to them we cheerfully commit our claims, — fully convinced of their impartial decision.

8, George-Street, Glasgow.

Contents

PAGE

Introduction, ---------l

PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION.

Introduction

When we reflect how much the study of elocution is now encouraged, and cultivated, it may seem an idle waste of words to insist on its importance and utility. Such an objection, however, can be made only by those who patronize the art, but does not apply to those who practise it : and this work is intended almost solely for the latter. Not to enlarge on the advantages derived from an acquaintance with those causes on which the effects of elocution necessarily depend, as well as with the properties of voice, articulation, inflexion, &c. which are to constitute our leading topics, it is enough, if, by commemorating the names, the labors, and the triumphs of the most celebrated masters of delivery, interest and enthusiasm be awakened in the learner; for, in these pursuits, to wall is almost to accomplish. All those causes, then, to which the powers of elocution are owing, have been generalized into what is termed natural language. This, tho inferior perhaps to artificial language, or words, in conveying descriptions, still renders such depictions more plain and vivid, and assuredly transmits emotion with a power and a delicacy, of which words, unassisted, are incapable. We need not go far for proofs of its significance. Tbe voice (but of this more hereafter) is, without doubt, the most efficient instrument in delivery; but even without its aid, and by gesture alone, the dumb can converse intelligibly with each other; and the ancient mimes, not only made their hearers at once comprehend the whole stoiy of the drama, but even agitated them with various Ipassions. Such is its power, that a look has electrified a Kvhole theatre, and a cry of wo has wrung the heart with ■more acute grief than the most pathetic writing ever ex- Pcited.

4 INTRODUCTION.

night." Lord Mansfield is said to have been in the habit y when young, of reciting Demosthenes's Orations, on his native mountains, and to have practised before Mr. Pope, as his corrector; accordingly, his melodious voice, and graceful action, seem to have made as deep an impression as the beauties of his style, and obtained him the appelation of "the silver-tongued Murray." When he first spoke in the Senate, Sir Robert Walpole said, " It was an address, which would have done honor to Cicero," — " Yes," added Pulteney, " and so also would the manner in which it was delivered." It is said, that Dean Kirwan, who was perhaps the most celebrated of our pulpit orators, and who, in several of his discourses for charitable purposes, obtained collections to the amount of seven or eight hundred pounds, was so deeply convinced of the importance of manner, as an instrument of persuasion in preaching, that he carefully studied and prepared every tone and gesture : and, in the after-effects, his well-modulated and commanding voice, his striking attitudes, and his varied emphatic action, mightily aided his " winged words," in melting, inflaming, terrifying, and overwhelming his audience. It is agreed by all the contemporaries of Lord Chatham # , that no description could represent him adequately; that, to comprehend the force of his eloquence, it was necessaiy to see the man. All that Tufly included under the word "actio" was his. — " Et vocis et spiritus, et totius corporis, et ipsus linguae motus," were all such as to make the orator a part of his own eloquence. His mind was to be viewed in his countenance. So embodied was it in every look and gesture, that his words were rather to be felt than followed. They invested his hearers. The weapons of his opponents dropped from their hands. He spoke with the air and vehemence of inspiration ; and the very atmosphere flamed around him. As a proof of the expressiveness of his eye, we are told that Secretary Fox, his regular opponent, and surely not a man very likely to be subject to nervous alarms, was often seen, after the more important debates, walking with his hands in his pockets, all absorbed in reverie, and muttering to himself, — " that eye, that eye I"

* See the British Review for June, 1822.

INTRODUCTION. 5

The high tones of his voice, were the most striking and heart-thrilling, and by his peculiar manner of pronouncing the single little word whig, he is said to have again and again electrified the house. Dr. Franklin has justly observed of the celebrated Whitefield*, that it would have been fortunate for his reputation, if he had left no written works ; his talents would then have been estimated by the effect which they are known to have produced ; for on this point, there is the evidence of witnesses, whose credibility cannot be disputed. Whitefield's writings of eveiy kind, are certainly below mediocrity. They afford the measure of his knowledge and of his intellect, but not of his genius as a preacher. His elocution was perfect. Sometimes he would set before his congregation the agony of our Saviour, as though the scene were actually before them. " Look yonder ! " he would say, stretching out his hand, and pointing while he spoke, " what is it that I see? It is my agonized Lord! Hark, hark! do you not hear? O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me! Nevertheless, not my will, but thine, be done ! " This he introduced frequently in his sermons; and one who lived with him, says, the effect was not destroyed by repetition : even to those who knew what was coming, it came as forcibly as if they had never heard it before. A man at Exeter stood with stones in his pocket, and one in his hand ready to throw at him; but he dropped it before the sermon was far advanced, and going up to him after the preaching was over, he said: — " Sir, I came to hear you, with an intention to break your head ; but God, through your ministry, has given me a broken heart." A shipbuilder was once asked what he thought of him. " Think I" he replied, " I tell you sir, every Sunday that I go to my parish church, I can build a ship from stem to stern under the sermon; but, were it to save my soul, under Whitefield I could not lay a single plank." Hume pronounced him the most ingenious preacher he had ever heard; and said it was worth while to go twenty miles to hear him. But, perhaps, the greatest proof of his persuasive powers was, when he drew from Franklin's pocket, the money which that clear cool reasoner had determined not to give :

See Southey's Life of Wesley.

b INTRODUCTION.

it was for the orphan-house at Savannah. " I did not," says the American philosopher, >" disapprove of the design; but as Georgia was then destitute of materials and workmen, and it was proposed to send them from Philadelphia at a great expense, I thought it would have been better to have built it at Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I advised, but he was resolute in his first project, rejected my counsel, and I therefore refused to contribute. I happened soon after, to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which, I perceived he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, and concluded to give the copper; another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my pockets wholly into the collector's dish — gold and all." We have a signal instance of what can be accomplished by assiduity and perseverance, in the celebrated Irish orator, Curran. According to all accounts, he had as many natural impediments to overcome, as the celebrated orator of antiquity. His enunciation was naturally so precipitate and confused, that he was denominated, among his companions, " Stuttering Jack Curran." So little promise was there at one time, of his shining as a public speaker, that one of his most intimate and confidential friends said to him, " that he had the highest opinion of his capacity, and that, if he would confine himself to the study of the law, he would, to a certainty, become a very eminent chamber counsel; but he might depend upon it, nature never intended him for an orator." Fortunately, however, for his fame, this advice was disregarded : he persevered against all opposition. His voice was shrill, and his accent strongly provincial, or, to use his own words, in a state of nature; to surmount these defects, he set apart a portion of every day, for the purpose of reading and reciting aloud, slowly and distinctly, some of the most eloquent extracts in the language; carefully observing to imitate, as much as he could, the tones and manner of the most beautiful speakers he had heard. The success of this exercise was so complete, that, among his most;

INTRODUCTION. 7

unrivalled excellencies as an orator, were the clearness of his articulation, and a peculiar uninterrupted, graduated intonation, which, whatever was the subject, whether tender or impassioned, melodised every sentence. His person was naturally without dignity or grace — short, slender, and inelegantly proportioned. He used to say himself, that the only inheritance he could boast of from his poor father, was the veiy scanty one of an unattractive face and person like his own. In order to attain an action that might conceal as much as possible these defects, he declaimed frequently before a mirror, and selected the gesticulation that he thought best adapted to his imperfect stature. We shall conclude these observations, with an extract from Austin's Chironomia, a work, incomparably the ablest treatise on delivery in general, that has yet appeared in our language.

" With respect to the delivery of an orator, in all its refinement and necessary circumstances, the fact appears to be, that it belongs to no particular people, to the exclusion of others ; and that it is not the gift of nature more than other high acquirements ; but that it is the reward of arduous labor, under the guidance of consummate art. We admit the French to have more facility in learning this art than ourselves; the French allow the same superiority to the Italians, the Italians to the Greeks ; but, in truth, the gift is not gratuitous to any people. Gracchus labored incessantly, Cicero labored incessantly, Hortentius labored, Demosthenes, Eschines, Isocrates labored; — which of all the celebrated orators has not labored? or which of them can be said to owe his fame merely to the gift of nature, as the indigenous produce of the soil from which he sprung? If a standard of comparison could be found, hardly would the British actors, whose excellence is chiefly confined to this one branch of eloquence — delivery, — lose in comparison with either moderns or ancients of other nations; and what the talents, the industry, and the professional acquirements of our actors have accomplished, can we doubt would be accomplished with equal success by our orators, if they brought into action equal industry, and equal professional learning?

INTRODUCTION.

" It is not because the British orators are incapable of the most consummate perfection in the art of delivery, that this perfection is hardly to be seen among them; it is because perfection in this, as in all other arts, is a work of labor and of time. ,,

THE

PART L

THE VOICE.

The voice is the organ of eloquence, and has the entire dominion of one sense. All that articulate language and tones can effect to influence the understanding, and to win the affections, depend on the power of the voice addressed to the ear. The countenance and gesture, address their mute language to the eye. The very name of eloquence is derived from the exertions of the voice, and where the voice fails, eloquence ceases to have living existence, and may be found only in the dead letter. The qualities and the management of the voice, therefore, are of the highest importance to the public speaker: the former are principally the gift of nature ; the latter, chiefly depends on art.

That a voice decidedly imperfect, can by any art be so improved, as to answer every effort of oratory, is altogether hopeless ; but of whatever description the power or qualities of the voice may be, provided it be moderately good, and that the ear be not wholly depraved, they may be improved to a great extent by due cultivation. With proper management, few voices are so bad as not to be rendered capable of discharging tolerably the functions of public speaking in our assemblies; and few are to be found so perfect, as not to require some attention, or which may not derive some benefit from the observance of some general rules for the proper management of that organ.

ARTICULATION.

Purity of articulation is not only essential to a public speaker, but is of the utmost importance even in private conversation. The person who mumbles out his words in confused and broken accents, presents his hearer with only fragments of his meaning, and very frequently drives him to the disagreeable nonplus of interrupting his indistinct narrator, with a — " Sir?" — " I beg your pardon, Sir! will you please to repeat that, Sir?" — or some such significant expression. Almost every one is aware of the exquisite sensation which these puny interruptions occasion in both the speaker and the hearer. If, then, a clear distinct articulation be so very important in private conversation, in a public speaker it becomes absolutely indispensable: indeed, its absence cannot be supplied or excused, by any other qualification whatever. Without it, pathos and sublimity sink into ridicule, and passion into a confused jumble — a chaos of unintelligible sound. The want of this faculty is the less pardonable, because almost every person may, with proper attention, make himself master of it. A few perhaps may have some unconquerable natural defect, but I am thoroughly convinced, that in at least ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, a bad articulation is the result of habit, — contracted in youth, — strengthened and confirmed by practice. In the course of my professional practice, I have met with numerous instances of this vice in speaking (as every person in my line must do), and I can safely assert, that I have never yet met with any one, who, when he firmly resolved to get free of it, and employed the proper means, has not succeeded, even though opposed by some organic defect*

MODULATION.

The modulation of the voice is the proper management of its tones, so as to produce grateful melpdies to the ear. Upon the modulation of the voice, depends that variety which is so pleasing, and so necessary to refresh and relieve the ear in a long oration. The opposite fault is monotony, which becomes at last so disagreeable, as to defeat altogether the success of a public speaker (as far as to please is any part of his object), by exciting the utmost impatience and disgust in his audience. To the variety so grateful to the ear, not only change of tones is requisite, but also change of delivery. The force and rapidity of utterance ought to vary in compliance with the nature of the subject. Narration should proceed equably, the pathetic slowly, instruction authoritatively, argumentation with intensity, determination with vigor, and passion with force and rapidity.

The art of varying the tones of the voice> not only affords pleasure and relief to the hearer, but, by the alternation of labor, relieves the speaker. The voice must be adapted to the subject and the feelings of the mind, so as not to be at variance with the expressions: — This is the great art

TONES*.

It was necessary to society, and to the state of human nature in general, that the language of the animal passions, of man at least, should be fixed, self-evident, and universally intelligible; and it has accordingly been impressed, by the unerring hand of nature, on the human frame. All the affections and emotions, therefore, belonging to man in his animal state, are so distinctly characterized, by certain marks, that they cannot be mistaken; and this language of the passions carries with it the stamp of its Almighty Artificer, — utterly unlike the poor workmanship of imperfect man; as it is not only understood by all the different nations of the world, without pains or study, but excites also similar emotions, or corresponding effects, in all minds alike. Thus, the tones expressive of soitow, lamentation, mirth, joy, hatred, anger, love, pity, &c. are the same in all nations, and, consequently, can excite emotions in us analogous to those passions, when accompanying words which we do not understand: nay,

* See Sheridan's Lecture on Tones.

the very tones themselves, independent of words, will produce the same effects, as has been amply proved by the power of musical instruments. And though these tones are usually accompanied by words, in order that the understanding may, at the same time, perceive the cause of these emotions, by a communication of the particular ideas which excite them ; yet that the whole energy, or power of exciting analogous emotions in others, lies in the tones themselves, may be known from this, — that, whenever the force of these passions is extreme, words give place to inarticulate sounds. Sighs, murmurings, in love; sobs, groans, and cries, in grief; half-choked sounds, in rage ; and shrieks, in terror, — are then the only language heard. And the experience of mankind may be appealed to, whether these have not more power in exciting sympathy, than any thing that can be done by mere words.

Nor has this language of the passions been confined to man only; for, in that respect, he seems to be included in the general law, given to all animals that are not mute, or wholly incapable of uttering any sound; as they also express their passions by certain tones, which, striking the auditory nerves of those of the same species, always produce corresponding effects ; inasmuch as their kindred organs are invariably tuned by the hand of nature, in unison to those sounds. But it is to be o'bserved, that each species of animals seem to have a language of their own, not at all understood, or felt, by the rest. The lowing of the cow affects not the lamb ; nor does the calf regard the bleating of the sheep. The neighing of the steed calls up all the attention of the horse kind; they gaze towards the place whence the sound comes, and answer it, or run that way, if the steed be not in view; whilst the cows and the sheep raise not their heads from the ground, but continue to feed, utterly unmoved. The organs of hearing, in each species, are tuned only to the sounds of their own ; and whilst the roaring of the lioness makes the forest tremble, it is the sweetest music to the ears of her young.

As the passions and emotions of the several kinds of animals are very different, according to their different natures, so is there an equal diversity of tones, by which these several passions and emotions are expressed: — from the horrible roarings of the lion, to the gentle bleatings of the lamb; from the loud bellowings of the wild bull, to the low punings of the domestic cat. But, as there is no passion or emotion whatsoever, in the whole animal world, which is not to be found in man, so, equally comprehensive is the language of his passions, which are all manifested by suitable tones. The roaring of the lion is not more terrible than the voice of his anger; nor the cooings of the pigeon more soft than the murmurs of his love. The crowing of the morning cock is not so clear and sprightly, as the notes of his joy; nor the melancholy mournings of the turtle, so plaintive as those of his wo. The organs of hearing, therefore, in man, are so constructed as not to be indifferent to any kind of tone, either in his own species, or in the animal world, that is expressive of emotion or passion: from all, they receive either pleasure or pain, as they are affected with sympathy or antipathy. But, extensive as are the powers of the human ear, those of the human voice do not fall short of them, but are exactly suited to them in degree and comprehension. There is no tone which the ear can distinguish, that the voice, by pains and practice, is not capable of uttering. Hence it comes to pass, that, as man understands the language of the different tribes of animals, so he can make himself understood by them. The horse rejoices in the applauding tones of his rider's voice, and trembles when he changes them to those of anger. What blandishments do we see in the dog, when his master soothes him in kind notes ! what fear, and even what shame, when he changes them to those of chiding! By those the waggoner directs his team, and the herdsman his flock. Even animals of the most savage nature, are not proof against the collective powers of the human voice ; and the shouts of a multitude will put wild beasts to flight, who can hear without emotion the roarings of the thunder. This far, we find that man, in his animal capacity, is furnished like all other animals, by nature herself, with a language, which requires neither study, art, nor mutation ; which spontaneously breaks out in the exactest expressions, nicely proportioned to the degrees of his inward emotions; and which is not only universally understood, but felt by those of the same species, as also, in some degree, by the rest of the animal world. c

But when we come to examine the power of each, in their full extent, Ave shall find, that, though words are limited to their peculiar office, and never can supply the place of tones; yet tones, on the other hand, are not confined to their province, hut often supply the place of words, as marks of ideas. And tho the ease and distinctness witli which our ideas are marked hy articulate sounds, has made all mankind agree to use them in discourse, yet that tones are capable, in a great measure, of supplying their place, is clear from this ; that the Chinese language is chiefly made up of tones, and the same individual word shall have sixty different meanings, according to the different tones in which it is pronounced. Here, then, it is clear, that fifty-nine of the sixty ideas, are marked hy tones; for the same individual word, pronounced exactly in the same manner, cannot possibly, by itself, be a clear and distinct mark for more than one idea.

Beside the use of tones, in the exertion of his animal and intellectual faculties, there is another part of man's nature which seems to be the link that joins the other two, a great part of whose exertions ^have their very essence, so far as they are communicated by the voice, in tones ; — I mean fancy. To one branch of this part of his frame, nature herself has furnished matter for a language, different in its land from all other, and peculiar to man — I mean, risibility ; and this matter, according to the exertions of fancy, is to be modified into an infinity of shapes. There is a laugh of joy, and a laugh of ridicule ; there is a laugh of anger, and a laugh of contempt. Nay, there are few of our passions to winch fancy cannot adapt and associate this language. And should we trace it through all its several modifications and degrees, from the loud burst of joy, to the tones belonging to the dry sneer of contempt, we should find, that an extensive and expressive language, independent of words, belongs to this faculty alone.

INFLEXIONS OF THE VOICE.

The difference between speaking and musical sounds, i* ? that the latter remain for some specified time on one particular note, and leaps from one part of the scale to

the other, thus, m •; while the former, instead of

dwelling any time on the note they commence with, are perpetually sliding either upwards or downwards,

thus, » ^A^. t From the ever- varying and rapid motion

of speaking sounds, it was thought impossible by almost every one who attempted to illustrate the subject, before the time of the late celebrated Mr. Walker, to give any such distinct relation of them, as could be of any material advantage to the student of elocution. Mr. Walker, however, in his Elements of Elocution, has given a complete analysis of these sounds, and reduced them to two simple modifications, a downward and an upward slide, termed by him inflexions of the voice. He has also proved that, in many cases (always in the case of emphasis), these slides, or inflexions, have a most intimate connection with sense, and that the author's meaning may be absolutely perverted by the application of a wrong inflexion*.

The tones of the passions are qualities of sound, occasioned by certain vibrations of the organs of speech, independent of high, low, loud, soft, quick, slow, forcible, or feeble: which last may very properly be called different quantities of sound.

Though all the variety, force, beauty, and harmony, which a good reader is capable of throwing into composition, when he enters into the spirit of his author, can be acquired by no other means than the force of example, influencing the imitative faculties of the learner; yet, when we consider, that, whether words are pronounced swiftly or slowly, forcibly or feebly, with the tone of the passion or without it, they must be pronounced sliding either upwards or downwards, or in a monotonef, or song; — when we consider this, we shall find, that the primary division of speaking sounds, is into the upward and downward slides of the voice ; or a combination of the two, termed the circumflex £ ; and that, whatever other diversity of

* See the Article on Emphasis, annexed to this compilation, f See Monotone. $ See Circumflex.

time, tone, or force, is added to speaking, it must necessarily be conveyed by these slides, or inflexions.

These inflexions, therefore, are the axis on which the variety of speaking turns, and may be termed the outlines of pronunciation; and these outlines bear the same proportion to delivery, that the rough, but correct sketch of a picture bears to the finished painting.

The rising inflexion, is that upward turn of the voice which we generally use at a comma, to imply a continuation of sense; or in asking a question beginning with a verb: as, "Do you leave town to-day?"* The falling inflexion is generally used at the semicolon and colon, to imply a conclusion of sense; we would also make use of it in answer to the former question; as, " No: I do not."