Public Speaking: Principles and Practice. Irvah Lester Winter

the public speaker's word will be taken for what he is known to be worth as a man; that his utterances will have effect according as they are given out with soul-felt earnestness. This has already been touched upon here, and it is well that it should be often repeated. It may be well, however, also to consider quite carefully what part is played in men's efforts by the element of skill. Of two equally worthy and equally earnest men, the man of the superior skill, acquired by persistent training in method, will be the stronger man, the man who will be of more service to his fellows. More than this, inasmuch as public men can seldom be perfectly known or judged as to character, and may often, for a time at least, deceive, it is quite possible that the unscrupulous man with great skill will, at some moment of crisis, make the worse appear to be the better cause. Equally skilled men are therefore wanted to contend for the side of right. The man whose service to men depends largely upon his power of speech—in the pulpit, at the bar, or in non-professional capacity—must have, either from gift or from training, the speaker's full equipment, for matching himself against opposing strength.

REVIEW EXERCISES

       Table of Contents

      For convenience of practice, a few pages of brief exercises, exemplifying the foregoing principles, are given at the end of the book. By using each day one example in each group, and changing from time to time, the student will have sufficient variety to serve indefinitely. This vocal practice may be made a healthful and pleasurable daily exercise.

PART TWO

       Table of Contents

      TECHNICAL TRAINING

      ESTABLISHING THE TONE

      O SCOTIA!

      From "The Cotter's Saturday Night"

      BY ROBERT BURNS

      O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!

       For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent,

       Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil

       Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

       And oh! may Heaven their simple lives prevent

       From luxury's contagion, weak and vile!

       Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,

       A virtuous populace may rise the while,

       And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved isle.

      O Thou! who poured the patriotic tide,

       That streamed through Wallace's undaunted heart,

       Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride,

       Or nobly die, the second glorious part,

       (The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art,

       His friend, inspirer, guardian and reward!)

       Oh never, never, Scotia's realm desert;

       But still the patriot, and the patriot bard,

       In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard!

      O ROME! MY COUNTRY!

      From "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage"

      BY LORD BYRON

      O Rome! my country! city of the soul!

       The orphans of the heart must turn to thee,

       Lone mother of dead empires! and control

       In their shut breasts, their petty misery.

       What are our woes and sufferance?—Come and see

       The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way

       O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye!

       Whose agonies are evils of a day:—

       A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay.

      The Niobe of nations! there she stands,

       Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe;

       An empty urn within her withered hands,

       Whose holy dust was scattered long ago;—

       The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now;

       The very sepulchers lie tenantless

       Of their heroic dwellers:—dost thou flow,

       Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness?

       Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress!

      RING OUT, WILD BELLS!

      From "In Memoriam"

      BY ALFRED LORD TENNYSON

      Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

       The flying cloud, the frosty light;

       The year is dying in the night;

       Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

      Ring out the old, ring in the new,

       Ring, happy bells, across the snow;

       The year is going, let him go;

       Ring out the false, ring in the true.

      Ring out the grief that saps the mind,

       For those that here we see no more;

       Ring out the feud of rich and poor,

       Ring in redress to all mankind.

      Ring out a slowly dying cause,

       And ancient forms of party strife;

       Ring in the nobler modes of life,

       With sweeter manners, purer laws.

      Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

       The faithless coldness of the times;

       Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,

       But ring the fuller minstrel in.

      Ring out false pride in place and blood,

       The civic slander and the spite;

       Ring in the love of truth and right,

       Ring in the common love of good.

      ROLL ON, THOU DEEP!

      From "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage"

      BY LORD BYRON

      Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll!

       Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;

       Man marks the earth with ruin—his control

       Stops with the shore: upon the watery plain,

       The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain

       A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,

       When for a moment, like a drop of rain,

       He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,

       Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

      The armaments, which thunderstrike the walls

       Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake,

       And monarchs tremble in their capitals;

       The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make

       Their clay creator the vain title take

       Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war;