The preceding chapter dealt with those faculties which provide the materials of speech, and in one sense was scarcely appropriate to a treatise designed to show the best modes of communicating knowledge. Yet it was difficult to approach the subject intelligibly in any other way. So much has been said about the natural power of oratory that it was necessary to define its character and to show how it might be supplemented by cultivation. But it is more directly our task to point out the mode of improving the communicative faculties.

First in importance among these stands language. Without its assistance thought could not be consecutively imparted. Some vague and intangible conceptions might arise within our own minds, but even these could not be given to other minds without the medium of words. The power of language is distinct from general intellectual ability. It by no means follows that a man who possesses important thoughts and deep emotions will be able to communicate them well; but a very moderate endowment of the word-faculty may be so cultivated as to fulfill every requirement. Diligent practice in the methods advised below will enable the great majority of men to express their thoughts with fullness and accuracy.

There are certain laws in every language made binding by custom, which cannot be transgressed without exposing the offender to the severe penalty of ridicule and contempt. These laws form the basis of grammar, and must be thoroughly learned. If a man has been under the influence of good models from childhood, correctness will be a matter almost of instinct; but the reverse of this is frequently the case. Even then there is but little difficulty experienced by any one who will take the necessary pains, in learning to write in accordance with the rules of speech, and when this power has been attained there is a standard formed by which to judge our spoken words. But it is not enough for the extempore speaker to be able to reduce his sentences to correctness by recasting, pruning, or adding to them. They should be required to present themselves at first in correct form and in rounded completeness. He has no time to think of right or wrong constructions, and the only safe way, therefore, is to make the right so habitual that the wrong will not once be thought of. In other words, we must not only be able to express ourselves correctly by tongue and pen, but the very current of unspoken words that flows in our brains must be shaped in full conformity to the laws of language. When we exercise the power of continuous grammatical thinking, there will be no difficulty in avoiding the ridiculous blunders which are supposed to be inseparable from extempore speech.

Correctness in pronunciation is also of importance. Usage has given each word its authorized sound, which no person can frequently mistake without rendering himself liable to the easiest and most damaging of all criticisms. Bad pronunciation produces another and extremely hurtful effect upon extempore speech. The mental effort necessary to discriminate between two modes of pronouncing a word, neither of which is known to be right, diverts the mind from the subject and produces embarrassment and hesitation. Accuracy in the use of words, which is a charm in spoken no less than written language, may also be impaired from the same cause; for if two terms that may be used for the same idea are thought of, only one of which can be pronounced with certainty, that one will be preferred, even if the other be the more suitable. The extemporizer ought to be so familiar with the sound of all common words that none but the right pronunciation and accent will ever enter his mind.

Fluency and accuracy in the use of words are two qualities that have often been confounded, though perfectly distinct. To the speaker they are of equal importance, while the writer has far more need of the latter. All words have their own peculiar shades of meaning. They have been builded up into their present shape through long ages. By strange turns and with many a curious history have they glided into the significations they now bear; and each one is imbedded in the minds of the people as the representative of certain definite ideas. Words are delicate paints that, to the untutored eye, may seem of one color, but each has its own place in the picture painted by the hand of genius, and can be supplanted by no other. Many methods have been suggested for learning these fine shades of meaning. The study of Greek and Latin has been urged as the best and almost the only way: such study may be very useful for discipline, and will give much elementary knowledge of the laws of language: but the man who knows no other tongue than his own need not consider himself debarred from the very highest place as a master of words. The careful study of a good etymological dictionary will, in time, give him about all the valuable information bearing upon this subject that he could obtain from the study of many languages. In general reading, let him mark every word he does not perfectly understand, and from the dictionary find its origin, the meaning of its roots, and its varied significations at the present day. This will make the word as familiar as an old acquaintance, and when he meets it again he will notice if the author uses it correctly. The student may not be able to examine every word in the language, but by this mode he will be led to think of the meaning of each one he sees; and from this silent practice he will learn the beauty and power of English as fully as if he sought it through the literatures of Greece and Rome. If this habit is long continued it will cause words to be used correctly in thinking as well as in speaking. To read a dictionary consecutively and carefully (ignoring the old story about its frequent change of subject) will also be found very profitable.

Translating from any language, ancient or modern, will have just the same tendency to teach accurate expression as careful original composition. In either case the improvement comes from the search for words that exactly convey certain ideas, and it matters not what the source of the ideas may be. The use of a good thesaurus, or storehouse of words, may also be serviceable by showing in one view all the words that relate to any subject.

But none of these methods will greatly increase fluency. There is a practical difference between merely knowing a term and that easy use of it which only habit can give. Elihu Burritt, with his knowledge of fifty languages, has often been surpassed in fluency, force, and variety of expression by an unlettered farmer, because the few words the latter knew were always ready. There is no way to increase this easy and fluent use of language without much practice in utterance. Where and how can such practice be obtained?

Conversation affords an excellent means for this kind of improvement. We do not mean the running fire of question and answer, glancing so rapidly back and forth as to allow no time for premeditating or explaining anything, but real and rational talk—an exchange of thoughts and ideas clearly and intelligibly expressed. The man who engages much in this kind of conversation can scarcely fail to become an adept in the art of expressing his thoughts in appropriate language. Talk much; express your ideas in the best manner possible; if difficult at first, persevere, and it will become easier. Thus you will learn eloquence in the best and most pleasing school. The common conversational style—that in which man deals directly with his fellow man—is the germ of true oratory. It may be amplified and systematized; but talking bears to eloquence the same relation that the soil does to the tree that springs out of its bosom.

But the best thoughts of men and the noblest expressions are seldom found floating on the sea of common talk. To drink the deepest inspiration, our minds must often come in loving communion with the wise and mighty of all ages. In the masterpieces of literature we will find “thought knit close to thought,” and, what is still more to our present purpose, words so applied as to breathe and live. These passages should be read until their spirit sinks into our hearts and their melody rings like a blissful song in our ears. To memorize many such passages will be a profitable employment. The words of which such masterpieces are composed, with the meanings they bear in their several places, will thus be fixed in our minds ready to drop on our tongues when needed. This conning of beautiful passages is not now recommended for the purpose of quotation, although they may often be used in that manner to good advantage, but simply to print the individual words with their signification more deeply in memory.

This may be effected, also, by memorizing selections from our own best writings. What is thus used should be highly polished, and yet preserve, as far as possible, the natural form of expression. Carried to a moderate extent, this exercise tends to elevate the character of our extemporaneous efforts by erecting a standard that is our own, and therefore suited to our tastes and capacities; but if made habitual, it will induce a reliance upon the memory rather than on the power of spontaneous production, and thus destroy the faculty it was designed to cultivate.

But no means of cultivating fluency in language can rival extempore speech itself. The only difficulty is to find a sufficient number of occasions to speak. Long intervals of preparation have great advantages as far as the gathering of material for discourse is concerned; but they have disadvantages, also, which can only be overcome by more diligent effort in other directions.

Clear and definite ideas greatly increase the power of language. When a thought is fully understood it falls into words as naturally as a summer cloud, riven by the lightning, dissolves into rain. So easy is it to express a series of ideas, completely mastered, that a successful speaker once said, “It is a man’s own fault if he ever fails. Let him prepare as he ought, and there is no danger.” The assertion was too strong, for failure may come from other causes than a want of preparation. Yet the continuance of careful drill, in connection with frequent speaking and close preparation, will give very great ease and certainty of expression. The “blind but eloquent” preacher, Milburn, says that he gave four years of his life—the time spent as chaplain at Washington—to acquire the power of speaking correctly and easily without the previous use of the pen, and he declares that he considers the time well spent. His style is diffuse, sparkling, rhetorical, the most difficult to acquire, though not by any means the most valuable. An earnest, nervous, and yet elegant style may be formed by those who have the necessary qualifications in much shorter time.