PART I.

ELOCUTION.

INTRODUCTION.

HE who would enter the sacred ministry of Christ must consider that he will need the most intense energy in every faculty. Those powers which God has given him must all be molded and strengthened until they reach the highest perfection of which they are capable. And the bodily faculties are the medium through which all inherent spiritual power is to be impressed on the minds of the congregation, and thence driven into and implanted in their souls. We take it for granted that the strongest desire, the supreme passion of every messenger of Truth, is to command respect for his message; to strengthen the love of those who already are serving God; to reverse the course of rebellious wills; and to bring every thought of every heart into willing subjection to the great Master of souls.

The clergyman, then, as a good general, must review the whole field of his operations, and so marshal his forces and discipline his powers, that, when the hour of battle comes, he can bear through and overcome all opposing enemies. He must be continually on the alert. His foes are spiritual, the unhealthy or malicious feelings of a perverted nature. The thoughtlessness of the gay, the pride of the strong, the despair of the sorrowful, will meet him, at every hour, in the market-place, in the sick chamber, in the drawing-room, and in the church. It is his duty to meet

each of these and turn it gently, but firmly and invincibly, into the way of right.

In this he will find a threefold succession of mental action: First, understanding; then, feeling; and, lastly, resolution. In each of these he must precede his flock, that he may lead them by experience. And a further analysis will show that in the majority of cases the resolution to the accomplishing of which all his efforts must tend is the immediate result of the feelings. And, unless he be a writer of rare power, he will find that the voice is the chief instrument in arousing the feelings after which he aims. The beneficial influence of true feeling can not be too highly estimated, and the feeling to which the spirit of the Church is so much opposed is not the tender reverence and love of the true Son of God, nor the intense and fiery energy of the prophet, but the disordered frenzy of the dervishes of Christianity, or the weak effusions of a selfish sentimentalism. It is an absurdity to speak of a religion without feeling. The thing does not exist. Not a thought can rise in the mind, not a sentence can be heard, without producing some feeling, either attractive or repellent. It is the part of the sacred speaker, then, to see that the thoughts of his people are religious, to compel them to be religious by the subtle and inevitable influence of the notes of the human voice-an instrument stringed by its Creator to be the medium of divine harmonies. To bring this instrument to its proper perfection, we must go far back to the underlying causes which are to make it effective, or mar its power. The means of this culture will be fully discussed in the succeeding chapters.

CHAPTER I.

PRIMARY CONDITIONS OF VOCAL POWER.

THE primary conditions of strength and purity of voice rest upon good physical health. The public speaker, therefore, who undertakes his work conscientiously, and with the desire and determination to use his voice naturally and effectively, must give his attention first of all to the laws of health. "We can be useful no longer than we can be well," said Dr. Johnson. The weakening influence of ill-health is most disastrous to the work of any one who is to impress his fellow-creatures through the use of the voice. Neglect of sanitary law is not only stultifying in the extreme to the highest ideal of vocality—it is positively immoral. The clergyman who forms any habits, indulges in any occupations that injure the general health, or neglects needful exercise, by so doing completely destroys his power as a speaker. It is impossible for the writer to be too explicit and emphatic on this point. If the clergyman is not disposed to make the best use of his physical gifts, then he is not aiming at the highest moral effect in the right use of his vocal powers. The faculty of speech has been bestowed, like other gifts and faculties, for use, not for abuse or neglect. We are right, then, in making this a fundamental particular in a treatise on the proper discharge of Divine Service. The directions following will assist in establishing this physical condition.

First, the necessity of securing fresh air, by exercise out of doors, and by especial attention to ventilation in the study and in the church, must be emphasized. It seems hardly worth while to state that there is scarcely a church to be found which, after an hour's use, contains a fit material for the use of the voice. The preacher enters the pulpit half exhausted, and the hearers are half wearied from a vitiated atmosphere, when both should be fresh and in

spirited, the one to give and the other to receive wholesome impressions of Divine Truth. But, while securing fresh air in full and inexhaustible supplies, every public speaker should beware of speaking in a draught. The last effort in public of the most polished and cultivated speaker in New England was a fatal one to him on this account. Pure air,

it should be remembered, is essential to the clear working of the brain, through the proper clarifying of the blood. And whatever affects the condition of the brain is immediately manifested in the voice. Much of the preparatory hemming and hawing, not to say hawking and spitting, which are the embarrassed orator's natural preface, comes from impurity of air. The beneficial effect of pure air upon the health and spirits, and upon the nervous system, is greater than can be stated.

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Although the free use of pure air is demanded, care should be exercised, especially in the colder weather, to secure the air at a genial temperature. It is simply impossible to have the vocal organs in the right condition for work when the body is chilled. To insure the proper physical condition for public speaking, the feet should be kept warm. Thin-soled or damp shoes will impair the power of the best orator. Is it not proverbial that much of the health of the English people, of both sexes, is preserved to them by the use of thick-soled shoes? It is very dangerous for the public speaker to sit in the study when the feet are chilled. So simple a protection as a newspaper thrown over the feet during the hours of study will check the draughts on the floor of the room, and keep the head cool by keeping the feet warm. It is well for the student, who is to use his voice, to form the habit of standing during a part of his study hours, that the blood may descend to the extremities. The lamented poet Longfellow, to the last years of his life, practiced the habit of writing at a standing desk. And this custom of standing erect effects not only an easy and erect carriage of the body,

but, by strengthening the abdominal and also the dorsal muscles, lessens greatly the fatigue of rendering the public Service. For the dorsal muscles have a twofold functionthat of supporting the spinal column, and that of aiding the expulsory muscular action in speaking. This exercise is much more exhausting when using the voice in the kneeling posture, and hence arises the necessity of some natural strengthening discipline of these muscles. At all events, one should avoid the weakening process of their entire neglect during the week. Sitting hour after hour throughout the days of the week, and then kneeling and vocalizing with full voice in the public Service, is quite enough to tax the strength of the strongest. The nervous condition into which many speakers are thrown, during and after the effort of public speaking, can, undoubtedly, be traced to this neglect of the action and use of the dorsal muscles. This would affect the nerve centers in that vicinity of the spine, and, sympathetically, those all the way up to the brain.

While the essential conditions of warmth are insisted upon as necessary to the health of the public speaker, care should be exercised not to overheat the organs of the throat by the use of a muffler in cold weather. As an extraordinary means of protection, it may be used at times; but the continued habit of wearing a close covering for the throat softens the organs, and renders them more sensitive to the harmful influence of cold. The throat can be inured to such climatic conditions as readily as the face or hands. The rare occurrence, at present, of "clerical sore throat," and the decrease in the death-list of consumption, may be largely attributed to our more rational modern custom of leaving the throat exposed. If it be necessary to ride in the open air for any considerable distance before speaking, a newspaper buttoned under the coat will keep the chest warm, and prevent that deep chill which is so disastrous to the voice. If one is compelled to pass directly into the