THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING. J. BERG ESENWEIN DALE CARNAGEY

voice tell more truly what we mean than our

      words. The expressiveness of language is literally multiplied by this

      subtle power to shade the vocal tones, and this voice-shading we call

      _inflection_.

      The change of pitch _within_ a word is even more important, because more

      delicate, than the change of pitch from phrase to phrase. Indeed, one

      cannot be practised without the other. The bare words are only so many

      bricks--inflection will make of them a pavement, a garage, or a

      cathedral. It is the power of inflection to change the meaning of words

      that gave birth to the old saying: "It is not so much what you say, as

      how you say it."

      Mrs. Jameson, the Shakespearean commentator, has given us a penetrating

      example of the effect of inflection; "In her impersonation of the part

      of Lady Macbeth, Mrs. Siddons adopted successively three different

      intonations in giving the words 'We fail.' At first a quick contemptuous

      interrogation--'We fail?' Afterwards, with the note of admiration--'We

      fail,' an accent of indignant astonishment laying the principal emphasis

      on the word 'we'--'_we_ fail.' Lastly, she fixed on what I am convinced

      is the true reading--_We fail_--with the simple period, modulating the

      voice to a deep, low, resolute tone which settles the issue at once as

      though she had said: 'If we fail, why then we fail, and all is over.'"

      This most expressive element of our speech is the last to be mastered in

      attaining to naturalness in speaking a foreign language, and its correct

      use is the main element in a natural, flexible utterance of our native

      tongue. Without varied inflections speech becomes wooden and monotonous.

      There are but two kinds of inflection, the rising and the falling, yet

      these two may be so shaded or so combined that they are capable of

      producing as many varieties of modulation as maybe illustrated by either

      one or two lines, straight or curved, thus:

      [Illustration of each line]

      Sharp rising

      Long rising

      Level

      Long falling

      Sharp falling

      Sharp rising and falling

      Sharp falling and rising

      Hesitating

      These may be varied indefinitely, and serve merely to illustrate what

      wide varieties of combination may be effected by these two simple

      inflections of the voice.

      It is impossible to tabulate the various inflections which serve to

      express various shades of thought and feeling. A few suggestions are

      offered here, together with abundant exercises for practise, but the

      only real way to master inflection is to observe, experiment, and

      practise.

      For example, take the common sentence, "Oh, he's all right." Note how a

      rising inflection may be made to express faint praise, or polite doubt,

      or uncertainty of opinion. Then note how the same words, spoken with a

      generally falling inflection may denote certainty, or good-natured

      approval, or enthusiastic praise, and so on.

      In general, then, we find that a bending upward of the voice will

      suggest doubt and uncertainty, while a decided falling inflection will

      suggest that you are certain of your ground.

      Students dislike to be told that their speeches are "not so bad," spoken

      with a rising inflection. To enunciate these words with a long falling

      inflection would indorse the speech rather heartily.

      Say good-bye to an imaginary person whom you expect to see again

      tomorrow; then to a dear friend you never expect to meet again. Note the

      difference in inflection.

      "I have had a delightful time," when spoken at the termination of a

      formal tea by a frivolous woman takes altogether different inflection

      than the same words spoken between lovers who have enjoyed themselves.

      Mimic the two characters in repeating this and observe the difference.

      Note how light and short the inflections are in the following brief

      quotation from "Anthony the Absolute," by Samuel Mervin.

      _At Sea--March 28th_.

      This evening I told Sir Robert What's His Name he was a fool.

      I was quite right in this. He is.

      Every evening since the ship left Vancouver he has presided over

      the round table in the middle of the smoking-room. There he sips

      his coffee and liqueur, and holds forth on every subject known

      to the mind of man. Each subject is _his_ subject. He is an

      elderly person, with a bad face and a drooping left eyelid.

      They tell me that he is in the British Service--a judge

      somewhere down in Malaysia, where they drink more than is good

      for them.

      Deliver the two following selections with great earnestness, and note

      how the inflections differ from the foregoing. Then reread these

      selections in a light, superficial manner, noting that the change of

      attitude is expressed through a change of inflection.

      When I read a sublime fact in Plutarch, or an unselfish deed in

      a line of poetry, or thrill beneath some heroic legend, it is no

      longer fairyland--I have seen it matched.

      --WENDELL PHILLIPS.

      Thought is deeper than all speech,

      Feeling deeper than all thought;

      Souls to souls can never teach

      What unto themselves was taught.

      --CRANCH

      It must be made perfectly clear that inflection deals mostly in subtle,

      delicate shading _within single words_, and is not by any means

      accomplished by a general rise or fall in the voice in speaking a

      sentence. Yet certain sentences may be effectively delivered with just

      such inflection. Try this sentence in several ways, making no

      modulation until you come to the last two syllables, as indicated,

      And yet I