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“How
to Develop Self-Confidence
In Speech and Manner” eBook Online Version
Energy of thought should manifest it-self not in loudness but in intensity of voice. If a man put the proper earnestness into his utterances, naturalness and reality will necessarily follow. The voice must be colored from within, so that the vividness and intensity with which the speaker himself sees and feels will be communicated to others. In connection with this subject, one may be reminded that the mouth is capable of infinite degrees of expression, Delsarte placing its variations at over 2,000.
In every good speaking voice there should be sympathy, or heart-force. This produces geniality and frankness in the speaker which instantly commend him to the listener. He seems to take the hearer into his confidence, speaking to him as man to man, and impressing him with the force and conviction of what he says. A well-trained voice imparts satisfaction to the man himself, and gives him a self-confidence he might not otherwise possess.
When a man attempts to speak in public, especially for the first time, what startles him most is the strange and inadequate effect of his own voice. If it has not been trained, he realizes his deficiency and at once becomes self-conscious and uncomfortable. It is a sad commentary upon a grown man that he can not speak loud enough to be heard at the end of a large hall. He mumbles, and whispers, and pipes his tones, but all to no purpose. Cries of "louder" only embarrass him the more, and at last perchance he must sit down covered with confusion.
The whisper of William Pitt, the younger, could be heard in the most remote parts of the House of Commons. It is said that, at the age of twenty-one, his wonderful speaking voice really ruled the British nation. All the great English orators developed their voices to the highest efficiency. Many a man, credited with great natural ability in this respect, has privately and patiently trained his voice through practice. Webster's voice was so full and resonant in quality that it would ring in the hearer's ear long after the actual sounds had died away. On one occasion he uttered a phrase with such power of voice that several of his nearest auditors were observed to half rise from their seats.
For purposes of public speaking a voice must be of wide range and flexibility. The student is recommended to "try all methods, from the sledge-hammer to the puff-ball. Be as gentle as a zephyr, and as furious as a tornado. Be, indeed, just what every common sense person is, in his speech, when he talks naturally, pleads vehemently, whispers confidentially, appeals plaintively, or publishes distinctly. Alter the key frequently, and vary the strain constantly. And so, let the bass, the treble, and the tenor take their turn." It is difficult to atone for a poor voice in a public speaker. An unfavorable impression once made will not be effaced sometimes even by the most superior mental endowments.
Next in importance we name the element of sympathy, which lends a peculiar charm to the speaking voice. This quality more than any other reaches the minds and hearts of men. We like to be able to say of a speaker: "There is a man who knows and understands me; he has a message for me, perhaps; I will listen to him." A well-trained voice should be capable of expressing the entire gamut of human emotions, since men are often reached through the heart and imagination when all other means fail. "Not a heart," says Amiel, "but has its romance; not a life which does not hide a secret which is either its thorn or its spur. Everywhere is grief, hope, comedy, tragedy; even under the petrifactions of old age, as in the twisted forms of fossils, we may discover the agitations and tortures of youth. This thought is the magic wand of poets and preachers." This sympathy can be cultivated by intimate touch with human suffering, by sincere and heartfelt interest in the welfare of others. It is an emanation of the heart, by which the speaker is himself moved before he attempts to influence others.
Combined with authority and sympathy, the voice should be trained for adequate expression. The demands upon it may be great and varied, ranging from gentle conversation to vociferous appeal. Like a vast cathedral organ, it must be responsive to every touch of the master--now light as a tinkling bell, then deep as the cannon's roar; here sweet as the shepherd's flute, there shrill as the trumpet's blast; rising and falling, receding and swelling, heaving higher and still higher with its "thrilling thunders, compressing air into music, and rolling it forth upon the soul." Then, as Washington Irving speaks of the organ, "What long-drawn cadences! What solemn sweeping concords! It grows more and more dense and powerful, it fills the vast pile, and seems to jar the very walls, the ear is stunned, the senses are overwhelmed. And now it is winding up in full jubilee; it is rising from earth to heaven; the very soul seems wrapped away and floating upward on this swelling tide of harmony." Such is the wonderful power of the human voice, and it should be every man's richest possession.
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