J. BERG ESENWEIN DALE CARNAGEY - THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING

are primary--and not only primary but paramount; for unless it be a full

being that uses the methods it will be like dressing a wooden image in

the clothes of a man.

J. BERG ESENWEIN.

NARBERTH, PA.,

JANUARY 1, 1915.

Sense never fails to give them that have it, Words enough to

make them understood. It too often happens in some

conversations, as in Apothecary Shops, that those Pots that are

Empty, or have Things of small Value in them, are as gaudily

Dress'd as those that are full of precious Drugs.

They that soar too high, often fall hard, making a low and level

Dwelling preferable. The tallest Trees are most in the Power of

the Winds, and Ambitious Men of the Blasts of Fortune. Buildings

have need of a good Foundation, that lie so much exposed to the

Weather.

--WILLIAM PENN.

There is a strange sensation often experienced in the presence

of an audience. It may proceed from the gaze of the many eyes

that turn upon the speaker, especially if he permits himself to

steadily return that gaze. Most speakers have been conscious of

this in a nameless thrill, a real something, pervading the

atmosphere, tangible, evanescent, indescribable. All writers

have borne testimony to the power of a speaker's eye in

impressing an audience. This influence which we are now

considering is the reverse of that picture--the power _their_

eyes may exert upon him, especially before he begins to speak:

after the inward fires of oratory are fanned into flame the eyes

of the audience lose all terror.

--WILLIAM PITTENGER, _Extempore Speech_.

Students of public speaking continually ask, "How can I overcome

self-consciousness and the fear that paralyzes me before an audience?"

Did you ever notice in looking from a train window that some horses feed

near the track and never even pause to look up at the thundering cars,

while just ahead at the next railroad crossing a farmer's wife will be

nervously trying to quiet her scared horse as the train goes by?

How would you cure a horse that is afraid of cars--graze him in a

back-woods lot where he would never see steam-engines or automobiles, or

drive or pasture him where he would frequently see the machines?

Apply horse-sense to ridding yourself of self-consciousness and fear:

face an audience as frequently as you can, and you will soon stop

shying. You can never attain freedom from stage-fright by reading a

treatise. A book may give you excellent suggestions on how best to

conduct yourself in the water, but sooner or later you must get wet,

perhaps even strangle and be "half scared to death." There are a great

many "wetless" bathing suits worn at the seashore, but no one ever

learns to swim in them. To plunge is the only way.

Practise, _practise_, _PRACTISE_ in speaking before an audience will tend

to remove all fear of audiences, just as practise in swimming will lead

to confidence and facility in the water. You must learn to speak by

speaking.

The Apostle Paul tells us that every man must work out his own

salvation. All we can do here is to offer you suggestions as to how best

to prepare for your plunge. The real plunge no one can take for you. A

doctor may prescribe, but _you_ must take the medicine.

Do not be disheartened if at first you suffer from stage-fright. Dan

Patch was more susceptible to suffering than a superannuated dray horse

would be. It never hurts a fool to appear before an audience, for his

capacity is not a capacity for feeling. A blow that would kill a

civilized man soon heals on a savage. The higher we go in the scale of

life, the greater is the capacity for suffering.

For one reason or another, some master-speakers never entirely overcome

stage-fright, but it will pay you to spare no pains to conquer it.

Daniel Webster failed in his first appearance and had to take his seat

without finishing his speech because he was nervous. Gladstone was often

troubled with self-consciousness in the beginning of an address.

Beecher was always perturbed before talking in public.

Blacksmiths sometimes twist a rope tight around the nose of a horse, and

by thus inflicting a little pain they distract his attention from the

shoeing process. One way to get air out of a glass is to pour in water.

_Be Absorbed by Your Subject_

Apply the blacksmith's homely principle when you are speaking. If you

feel deeply about your subject you will be able to think of little else.

Concentration is a process of distraction from less important matters.

It is too late to think about the cut of your coat when once you are

upon the platform, so centre your interest on what you are about to

say--fill your mind with your speech-material and, like the infilling

water in the glass, it will drive out your unsubstantial fears.

Self-consciousness is undue consciousness of self, and, for the purpose

of delivery, self is secondary to your subject, not only in the opinion

of the audience, but, if you are wise, in your own. To hold any other

view is to regard yourself as an exhibit instead of as a messenger with

a message worth delivering. Do you remember Elbert Hubbard's tremendous

little tract, "A Message to Garcia"? The youth subordinated himself to

the message he bore. So must you, by all the determination you can

muster. It is sheer egotism to fill your mind with thoughts of self when

a greater thing is there--_TRUTH_. Say this to yourself sternly, and

shame your self-consciousness into quiescence. If the theater caught

fire you could rush to the stage and shout directions to the audience

without any self-consciousness, for the importance of what you were

saying would drive all fear-thoughts out of your mind.

Far worse than self-consciousness through fear of doing poorly is

self-consciousness through assumption of doing well. The first sign of

greatness is when a man does not attempt to look and act great. Before

you can call yourself a man at all, Kipling assures us, you must "not

look too good nor talk too wise."

Nothing advertises itself so thoroughly as conceit. One may be so full

of self as to be empty. Voltaire said, "We must conceal self-love." But

that can not be done. You know this to be true, for you have recognized

overweening self-love in others. If you have it, others are seeing it in

you. There are things in this world bigger than self, and in working for

them self will be forgotten, or--what is better--remembered only so as

to help us win toward higher things.

_Have Something to Say_

The trouble with many speakers is that they go before an audience with

their minds a blank. It is no wonder that nature, abhorring a vacuum,

fills them with the nearest thing handy, which generally happens to be,

"I wonder if I am doing this right! How does my hair look? I know I

shall fail." Their prophetic souls are sure to be right.

It is not enough to be absorbed by your subject--to acquire

self-confidence you must have something in which to be confident. If you

go before an audience without any preparation, or previous knowledge of

your subject, you ought to be self-conscious--you ought to be ashamed to

steal the time of your audience. Prepare yourself. Know what you are

going to talk about, and, in general, how you are going to say it. Have

the first few sentences worked out completely so that you may not be