somehow, I could read, write, and cipher to the rule of three, but that was all. I have not been to school since. The little advance I now have upon this store of education I have picked up from time to time under the pressure of necessity. I was raised to farm-work, which I continued till I was twentytwo. At twenty-one I came to Illinois, Macon County. Then I got to New Salem, at that time in Sangamon, now in Menard County, where I remained a year as a sort of clerk in a store. Then came the Black Hawk war, and I was elected a captain of volunteers, a success which gave me more pleasure than any I have had since. I went into the campaign, was elected; ran for the legislature the same year (1832), and was beaten-the only time I ever have been beaten by the people. The next three succeeding biennial elections I was elected to the legislature. I was not a candidate afterward. During this legislative period I had studied law and removed to Springfield to practise it. In 1846 I was once elected to the lower house of Congress. Was not a candidate for reelection. From 1849 to 1854, both inclusive, practised law more assiduously than ever before. Always a Whig in politics, and generally on the Whig electoral tickets, making active canvasses. I was losing interest in politics when the repeal of the Missouri Compromise aroused me again. What I have done since then is pretty well known. If any personal description of me is thought desirable, it may be said I am, in height, six feet four inches, nearly; lean in flesh, weighing on an average one hundred and eighty pounds; dark complexion, with coarse black hair and gray eyes. No other marks or brands recollected. Naturalness literally means to be in harmony with nature. It is that innate quality that makes a man obedient to his best self, and is opposed to every form of unreality and exaggeration. It is developed not by aiming directly at it, but rather by aiming at those things that are known to produce it. As Lowell says: "To seek to be natural implies a consciousness that forbids all naturalness forever." Therefore the speaker's most vital concern should be always to speak plain truth, to be scrupulously accurate and precise, and to make every word ring with the unmistakable qualities of frankness and sincerity. The test of a successful speaker is the effect he produces upon his audience. He may exhaust all the arts of elocution, rhetoric, and logic; he may be a master of English style, but unless he persuade his hearers to act he is not in the highest sense an orator. The speaker can best be in earnest by aiming at the motives which produce earnestness. He must himself be moved before he attempts to move others. The purpose of his speaking should be clearly defined in his own mind, and unlike those who "aim at nothing and hit it," he, on the contrary, will advance toward distinct and definite ends. There must be no acting, no pretense, no bombast, no empty and boisterous declamation, but a persistent and sincere application of his best powers, both of thought and feeling, to the effective delivery of his message. The value of personal character in the speaker is emphasized in the phrase, "What you are prevents me from hearing what you say." What an audience may know about a man goes to determine the mental image they have of him when he stands before them to speak, and in a very large degree does this affect the importance they attach to his utterance. A sneak need not try to be an orator, for he can not be. His real character will shortly betray him, if his reputation does not, and he will be appraised at his true value. His soul's emphasis will unconsciously disclose the soul itself. There is a wide difference between having something to say and having to say something. Thought is a necessary part of successful speech, and if a man really has nothing to say it is dangerous for him to pretend otherwise. The mind must be cultivated as a field, and from judiciously planted seeds of knowledge to yield a harvest of fresh, original ideas. Man is a thinking animal, and his mind thinks whether he wills or not. He can learn to control his thoughts, to determine the kind of ideas he will harbor in his mind, and, moreover, he can concentrate upon definite subjects and direct his mental powers in the pursuit of clear and definite objects. To become a great speaker a man must assiduously culti vate the positive side of his character. He should avoid, especially before an audience, such negative expressions as "I may be wrong," "I am half-inclined to think," "I do not wish to be too positive," "I am ready to be corrected if I am wrong," and similar phrases. He must equip himself so thoroughly for his work that he will be able truthfully to say, "I speak authoritatively," "I know this to be true," "There is not the shadow of a doubt," or "I stake my reputation on it." A positive nature is essential ✓ to leadership. Men are unwilling to entrust themselves to uncertainty and inexperience. The man whom they follow must be one who knows, and knows that he knows. Sensitiveness is fatal in a public man, because it indicates a lack of one of the most fundamental qualities of success self-confidence. Unless a man have the courage of his convictions he can not hope to win recognition as a teacher and leader of men. An inestimable benefit may be derived from studying some of the great and self-reliant speakers of England and America. Gladstone's speeches breathe throughout this quality of firmness and belief. James Bryce says of him: It was by his oratory that he first won fame, and largely by it that he maintained his ascendency. If his eloquence be compared either with that of the great ancient masters of the art, or with such modern masters as Edmund Burke and Daniel Webster, it does not show an equal depth and volume of thought nor an equal beauty and polish of diction. Many thought the speeches of John Bright superior, if considered as fine pieces of English. Mr. Gladstone, however, possest three great gifts of the parliamentary orator. He had a superb voice and delivery. His resources were inexhaustible. His quiver was always full of arguments, and he was equally skilful in the setting forth his own case in the most persuasive form and in answering his opponent's case on the spur of the moment with skill and spirit. And, above all, he had great fighting force. He enjoyed the clash of wits, and the more formidable an attack was, the more did it rouse him to the highest point of effectiveness. Indeed, it was often said in Parliament that his extempore speeches made in some conflict of debate that arose suddenly were more telling and gave a higher impression of his powers than the discourses thought over beforehand. This power remained with him to the end. It was this same quality of self-reliance in Webster that caused him to say to Hayne, "Let the discussion proceed; I am ready now to receive the gentleman's fire." He was a modest man, but "He carried men's minds, and overwhelmingly prest his thought upon them, with the immense current of his physical energy." His style was calm and deliberate, but always suggested great power in reserve. Hence it is that Webster's name has been linked with Demosthenes as the two greatest of the world's orators. To be a great public speaker one must be a great man. A glance over the enduring speeches of the world shows that not one was delivered for a consideration. Demosthenes spoke in his own defense. Cicero excelled all his other efforts in his oration against Catiline. The speeches that have been preserved in English oratory were made in be ކ ހ ކ ކ ކ half of the country or for some other great cause. Burke, Pitt, Erskine, Fox, O'Connell, Macaulay, Gladstone, and Disraeli spoke at their best when they spoke for the common welfare. The history of oratory in America testifies to ~ this same quality of disinterestedness. The greatest speeches were not inspired by any thought of personal reward. Webster, Lincoln, Clay, Sumner, Phillips, and other great names are remembered for their devotion to cause and country. Henry Ward Beecher, with all his pulpit eloquence, never spoke so well as in his speeches against slavery. When Seward made his eloquent defense of the negro Freeman, he did it without compensation. He toiled for months, spent his own money, lost lifelong friends, and was abused and almost mobbed by an infuriated people because he dared to defend a helpless negro, charged with murder, whom he believed to be insane. The greatest speeches of all time invariably have been inspired by an overwhelming desire for public service. It will be seen, then, that the greatness of a speaker's style is merely the expression of his great character, and that he is one who is ready to offer himself, if need be, a living sacrifice. A great speaker labors to make men nobler, to inspire them to higher ideals, and to advance the welfare of mankind. We are sometimes told that only a national crisis, or some other unusual event, can produce great orators. But never before, not even in ancient Greece or Rome, has there been a time when men were so ready as now to be moved by genuine eloquence. Never before has there been a time when so many vital national, social, and other problems confronted a people for solution. In all the history of the world there has never before been so much serious and sub |