L Speech-Training from a Medical Standpoint. BY J. E. CLark, M. D. AST summer, during the con- the voice. vention of the National Elocutionists' Association in Detroit, I chanced, in conversation with some students of elocution, to express my mind freely as to the value of their art. I said that it had for some years been a matter of surprise and regret, that more of our schoolteachers did not consider it a duty to improve their speaking-voice. I was requested to put my thoughts into writing and send them to WERNER'S MAGAZINE, but it was impossible for me to do so at the time, and I am considerably in doubt as to its use or necessity now. It seems a little like sending a tiny bucket of coal to a veritable Newcastle of information and research on the varied subject of voice training. From a purely physical standpoint, I am warmly in favor of anything that will tend to foster the study of elocution among almost all classes and conditions of men, women, and children. It is a mistake to think that elocution is only for people who intend to do pulpit or platform work, though for them it is invaluable, nay, indispensable. To say that hundreds of fine sermons are deprived of half their power by being poorly delivered is only to repeat what the churchgoing public discover sooner or later. It is only a great spiritual or intellectual genius that can overcome the serious disadvantage of a feeble delivery. To the laity, as a matter of lungpreservation, the benefits of elocutionary study are inestimable. How many there are who can not be induced to take the time and the pains necessary to master the subject of respiration, until they begin to train From health-considera tions alone they feel that it is not worth while, but for art's sake they are led to respect nature's laws in a way that revolutionizes the whole physical being. physical being. To the non-professional, my main argument is a utilitarian one. On the ground of greatly improved health, I plead for a wider recognition of this branch of study both in and out of the schools. Deep-breathing exercises purify the blood, and certainly fresh air is less costly and disagreeable than the famous patent remedies. Michigan has a bad reputation for dampness of climate. Much could be done, I believe, to conquer the effect of the moist atmosphere, if deep-breathing and an erect carriage of the body were insisted upon by all teachers and guardians of children. By beginning the deep-breathing exercises early enough, and continuing them with faithful regularity through life, I am persuaded that immense benefit would result, therefore I would earnestly entreat that all mothers insist that their daughters have daily practice in respiratory exercises. With less outdoor play and less freedom in their clothing than their brothers, the need of caution in building up their constitution is far greater. If in this breathing-drill, girls can be induced to leave the body unimpeded by any close-fitting garment, an added benefit is secured. To the teacher whose tones are imitated by from fifty to one hundred different children each year, a study of voice-management is as much a necessity as a knowledge of arithmetic. Unless she is fortunate enough to have by nature a clear, pleasant utterance, it is her duty to try to improve her voice and to cure its defects. I call to mind a school presided over for more than twenty years by a thoroughly refined woman. From the highest to the lowest grade in her building, her assistants consciously or unconsciously imitated her low, impressive, and melodious tones, and the pupils in the different rooms had the benefit of this excellent model. The teacher's tones in the schoolroom should be clear, distinct, and sympathetic. This calls to memory the odd instance of a young teacher who wrote to the editor of an educational journal that her voice was becoming higher in pitch and more disagreeable every day, and asked him to tell her how to rid herself of this "schoolroom tone." She was informed in reply that she had certainly not acquired the "schoolroom tone," if her voice was such as she had described. It often happens that throat or lung difficulties which seem subjects for medical treatment often succumb to the treatment of the elocution teacher if he be a thorough master of the art. A Detroit lady whom I know well was induced by her physician to take "treatment" for a difficulty of breathing, from an elocutionist instead of from himself. The result proved the good sense of his advice as the lady is to-day a good reader, with perfect breath-control. The proper placing of the voice will relieve the pressure upon the throat and prevent the affliction commonly known as clergyman's sore throat. "But why restrict your remarks to elocution? Does not every word you say apply to singing as well?" some teacher of vocal music may ask. Hardly, I think. Not everyone who has a good speaking-voice can sing. Every child in school, who has no impediment in his speech, is expected to read, but teachers know very well that not every child can join in the singing. Not that I would attempt for a moment to underrate vocal music, but there are mental and physical deficiencies in its way that must be faced. Furthermore, desirable proficiency in elocution can be reached with much less expense than is generally needed in learning to sing. The study of elocution may be commenced later in life and continued very much longer than singing. George Eliot's beautiful reading delighted her hearers when she was sixty years old, and I have listened to very fine public reading from ladies who were older than that. The public reader is not dependent upon a muscial instrument and a performer for aid as is the singer. Taken altogether, there is probably no expenditure of time and money that more amply repays the student than that which is put into the training of the voice for better reading and speaking. Reflex Action of Habitual Attitudes upon Thought and upon Expression. "No woman is to blame for not being beautiful at sixteen, but she has only herself to blame if she is not beautiful at forty."-French Proverb. G IVEN a certain emotion, it is bound to manifest itself along certain channels. Every individuality is such because of its related habitual emotions. The individuality is determined by the predomi nance, more or less, of one emotion or of one set of emotions. These emotions, constantly expressed, wear channels in the body. The muscles through which these emotions are expressed grow strong at the expense of other muscles, and are outwardly manifested in face and in form. Hence, a keen reader of character will say at once: "So-and-so is of a desponding disposition, or that man is joyful, or morose, or splenetic," as the case may be. Because the race has expressed and must express its emotions along certain lines, reflex action is always strong. So far we are helpless, but habit and use will cure any fault or defect of the body or kill out any undesired emotion; i. e., the practice of an attitude or an opposite emotion, associated always with the thought, is the best means of curing an emotion which has already gained the ascendency. The body is a potent means of training, reacting, and regulating thought and emotion, the reflex action reproducing in the soul that of which it is expressive. All emotions have a certain place and purpose, and all emotions are right in themselves. Overindulgence and overpractice of any one, to the end that it becomes abnormal, destroys the unity of the being, every force acting in unison with every other force. For instance, pride, in itself, is an absolute necessity to the development of the being. Pride is that belief in self which enables me to say, "I am quite as tall as you are. It is that which says, "I will not allow anyone to look down upon me, I am your equal." There are natures in which this proper pride is lacking. There are natures which look up to others constantly. Overdependence upon others is stultifying. Pride can be stimulated and developed through an exercise that will draw the body erect and overcome the already acquired habit of sinking into the depths in an abject way. This abjectivity is shown in a rounded back, head sunk between the shoulders, lifeless carriage, and a slight drooping forward of the head. Illustrate through given emotions, such as humility, sentimentality, and brutishness in the carriage of the head, passive chest, sensual carrying of the lower part of the torso, weak movements, swaying to and fro of the torso, side-to-side movement, toeing in, sinking upon the hips, etc., with exercises to correct. Series of exercises for this might be poising, forward and back, rising upon toes, carrying the weight upon the head to strengthen the muscles of the back, military position, active and passive chest, breathing-exercises, lifting the eyebrows, which brings hope into the face, etc. WH The Relation of Speaker and Audience. BY ALFRED MACLEOD. Lecturer on Elocution, Aberdeen University, Scotland. HEN a a young speaker is counseled to remember his audience, he frequently replies : "That's just the one thing I wish I could keep from doing." He thinks that if he could forget the presence of auditors all would go well with his speech. He says they make him nervous, stiff in manner, and unnatural; and that they check or disconcert his ideas. This state of matters shows that he has not yet learned the secret which is the source of power to all orators—the relation between speaker and audience. There are certain facts that are apt to be hidden from a public speaker because of his mental and moral excitement during speech. For if he be a good. speaker, or likely to become a good speaker, he will very probably be nervous. Nearly all great orators have confessed that they suffer from this affliction. It seems to be one of the conditions of the oratorical temperament. Let it be noted, however, that this almost essential accompaniment of public speech is a vital and healthy action of the nerves, entirely different from that morbid state commonly called nervousness." The one makes a man wish his hour had come, the other inclines him to run away. There are, chiefly, four facts regarding an audience that are frequently forgotton by a speaker: 66 1. Your audience is calmer and cooler than you are. They know nothing and suspect nothing regarding your nervousness unless you tell them about it by word or by sign. A young speaker generally imagines that everyone saw how nervous he was; and if he be of good spirit the excess of sympathy is repugnant to him. The criticism, "How cool you were" comes-when it does comeas a great surprise to him. 2. The audience is generally friendly. They are interested in your success; and not on the outlook for blunders. Indeed, a large audience is better tempered than any individual, and is most kindly disposed toward anyone who is natural and sincere. 3. You may be more natural before an audience than you can be in private life. If you express any emotion that is the outcome of some deep conviction of your heart, an audience will respect it and respond to it; but if you had done the same thing in private life, nearly all your friends would regard it with the surprise or suspicion attending a new departure. Civilization has so repressed us in the expression of emotions both in private and in society that we scarcely know the full range of even an intimate friend till we hear him in public. It seems as if one could be perfectly free and natural in the expression of emotion only in soltitude and-before a large audience. 4. An audience is certain to contain someone who is in full sympathy with any idea that is dear to yourself. Oliver Wendell Holmes confessed that he sometimes indulged in ideas which he knew no one would fully understand or care for except that unknown brother of his soul of whom he thought as he wrote. So, in a large audience you may freely utter your best thoughts, sure of appreciation. Remember also, that your hearers, however better and wiser they may be than you, will receive new views of truth, if you will record truly your own thoughts and feelings. In order to establish a right relation with his audience, a speaker must attend to certain details. He must regard physical laws. (1) Stand erect, firmly, yet easily. Freedom and grace in position give one greater command over one's powers of speech. (2) Breathe deeply and calmly. This allays nervousness, improves the vocal quality and admits a wider range of expressiveness. (3) Pitch low. It is easier to rise in pitch during speech than to fall. A high pitch unduly excites both speaker and hearers. (4) As far as you can, attend to the comfort of your audience in ventilation, seating, lighting, silence, disturbances from doors opening, etc. The attention of an audience is very easily diverted by any annoyance or interruption. (5) Have water on your desk. Rarely or never use it. If you require water, it is a symptom that you are not using the vocal apparatus properly. Water ought to be taken only in an emergency, as when a speck of dust gives trouble, or in faintness. A speaker must develop courage. He must bravely face the very worst that can happen, and be prepared for it. Even failure itself is not so bad as it looks in anticipation. It is astonishing how much consolation is to be derived from the philosophic habit-"If I fail-I fail." Out of courage and true humility there sometimes springs some touch of humor that puts speaker and audience into the best relationship. Practice frequently. Probably no one speaks well who does not speak frequently. There are, no doubt, many who are compelled to speak too often, but there are men who would speak more easily and effectively if they did not allow themselves to rust by too long an interval. Shun all oddity in dress and in manner. The confidence of an audience and its full-hearted attention is given only to one who is sincere and simple in manner. All "put on" graces, artificialities, swagger, and affectation distract attention. Be audible. An audience can not and will not forgive inaudibility. The best speakers take great pains to acquire perfection in articulation. Compel the mouth to make all the necessary motions for the consonants. The habit of correct enunciation will grow rapidly and it will repay any amount of pains taken to form it. Beware of the almost universal fault of dropping the voice on the last word of a clause. It may be well to remind those who regard correct pronunciation as a trifling matter that Dr. Rush calculated that after every mispronunciation, ten words are practically lost to the audience. The easiest advice to give, and the most difficult to follow is the precept-" Be natural." What that means for a public speaker must be told in another paper. HEARING MUSIC. BY LEIGH HUNT. Like winds in Eden's tree-tops rise And make me, though my spirit hears, For very luxury close my eyes, Let none but friends be round about Who love the soothing joy like me, That so the charm be felt throughout, And all be harmony. And when we reach the close divine, |