cise will
convince you of its great value.
7. STUDY SUCCESSFUL PUBLIC SPEAKERS
Hear the best public speakers available to you. Observe them critically.
Ask yourself such questions as these:
1. How does this speaker impress me?
2. Does he proceed in the most effective manner possible?
3. Does he convince me of the truth of his statements?
4. Does he persuade me to act as he wishes?
5. What are the elements of success in this speaker?
As you faithfully apply these various suggestions, you will constantly
improve in the art of public speaking, and so learn to wield this mighty
power not simply for your personal gratification but for the inspiration
and betterment of your fellow men.
MODEL SPEECHES FOR PRACTISE
AFTER-DINNER SPEAKING
BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL
My Lord Coleridge, My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen:--I confess that my
mind was a little relieved when I found that the toast to which I am to
respond rolled three gentlemen, Cerberus-like into one, and when I saw
Science pulling impatiently at the leash on my left, and Art on my
right, and that therefore the responsibility of only a third part of the
acknowledgment has fallen to me. You, my lord, have alluded to the
difficulties of after-dinner oratory. I must say that I am one of those
who feel them more keenly the more after-dinner speeches I make. There
are a great many difficulties in the way, and there are three principal
ones, I think. The first is having too much to say, so that the words,
hurrying to escape, bear down and trample out the life of each other.
The second is when, having nothing to say, we are expected to fill a
void in the minds of our hearers. And I think the third, and most
formidable, is the necessity of following a speaker who is sure to say
all the things you meant to say, and better than you, so that we are
tempted to exclaim, with the old grammarian, "Hang these fellows, who
have said all our good things before us!"
Now the Fourth of July has several times been alluded to, and I believe
it is generally thought that on that anniversary the spirit of a certain
bird known to heraldic ornithologists--and I believe to them alone--as
the spread eagle, enters into every American's breast, and compels him,
whether he will or no, to pour forth a flood of national
self-laudation. This, I say, is the general superstition, and I hope
that a few words of mine may serve in some sort to correct it. I ask
you, if ther
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