oice as upon a great cathedral organ, from "the soft lute of love" to
"the loud trumpet of war."

To assume that the study of the art of speaking will necessarily produce
consciousness of its principles while in the act of speaking in public,
is as unwarranted as to say that a knowledge of the rules of grammar,
rhetoric, or logic lead to artificiality and self-consciousness in the
teacher, writer, and thinker. There is a "mechanical expertness
preceding all art," as Goethe says, and this applies to the orator no
less than to the musician, the artist, the actor, and the litterateur.

Let the minister stand up for even five minutes each day, with chest and
abdomen well expanded, and pronounce aloud the long vowel sounds of the
English language, in various shades of force and feeling, and shortly he
will observe his voice developing in flexibility, resonance, and power.
For it should be remembered that the voice grows through use. Let the
minister cultivate, too, the habit of breathing exclusively through his
nose while in repose, fully and deeply from the abdomen, and he will
find himself gaining in health and mental resourcefulness.

For the larger development of the spiritual and emotional powers of the
speaker, a wide and varied knowledge of men and life is necessary. The
feelings are trained through close contact with human suffering, and in
the work of solving vital social problems. The speaker will do well to
explore first his own heart and endeavor to read its secret meanings,
preliminary to interpreting the hearts of other men. Personal suffering
will do more to open the well-springs of the heart than the reading of
many books.

Care must be had, however, that this cultivating of the feelings be
conducted along rational lines, lest it run not to faith but to
fanaticism. There is a wide difference between emotion designed for
display or for momentary effect, and that which arises from strong inner
conviction and sympathetic interest in others. Spurious, unnatural
feeling will invariably fail to convince serious-minded men.

"Emotion wrought up with no ulterior object," says Dr. Kennard, "is both
an abuse and an injury to the moral nature. When the attention is
thoroughly awakened and steadily held, the hearer is like a well-tuned
harp, each cord a distinct emotion, and the skilful speaker may evoke a
response from one or more at his will. This lays him under a great and
serious responsibility. Let him keep stea