The Art of Public Speaking Part 45

In the early part of the eighteenth century the South Sea Company was formed in England. Britain became a speculative crowd. Stock in the South Sea Company rose from 128-1/2 points in January to 550 in May, and scored 1,000 in July. Five million shares were sold at this premium.

Speculation ran riot. Hundreds of companies were organized. One was formed "for a wheel of perpetual motion." Another never troubled to give any reason at all for taking the cash of its subscribers--it merely announced that it was organized "for a design which will hereafter be promulgated." Owners began to sell, the mob caught the suggestion, a panic ensued, the South Sea Company stock fell 800 points in a few days, and more than a billion dollars evaporated in this era of frenzied speculation.

The burning of the witches at Salem, the Klondike gold craze, and the forty-eight people who were killed by mobs in the United States in 1913, are examples familiar to us in America.

_The Crowd Must Have a Leader_

The leader of the crowd or mob is its determining factor. He becomes self-hynoptized with the idea that unifies its members, his enthusiasm is contagious--and so is theirs. The crowd acts as he suggests. The great ma.s.s of people do not have any very sharply-drawn conclusions on any subject outside of their own little spheres, but when they become a crowd they are perfectly willing to accept ready-made, hand-me-down opinions. They will follow a leader at all costs--in labor troubles they often follow a leader in preference to obeying their government, in war they will throw self-preservation to the bushes and follow a leader in the face of guns that fire fourteen times a second. The mob becomes shorn of will-power and blindly obedient to its dictator. The Russian Government, recognizing the menace of the crowd-mind to its autocracy, formerly prohibited public gatherings. History is full of similar instances.

_How the Crowd is Created_

Today the crowd is as real a factor in our socialized life as are magnates and monopolies. It is too complex a problem merely to d.a.m.n or praise it--it must be reckoned with, and mastered. The present problem is how to get the most and the best out of the crowd-spirit, and the public speaker finds this to be peculiarly his own question. His influence is multiplied if he can only trans.m.u.te his audience into a crowd. His affirmations must be their conclusions.

This can be accomplished by unifying the minds and needs of the audience and arousing their emotions. Their feelings, not their reason, must be played upon--_it is "up to" him to do this n.o.bly_. Argument has its place on the platform, but even its potencies must subserve the speaker's plan of attack to _win possession_ of his audience.

Reread the chapter on "Feeling and Enthusiasm." It is impossible to make an audience a crowd without appealing to their emotions. Can you imagine the average group becoming a crowd while hearing a lecture on Dry Fly Fis.h.i.+ng, or on Egyptian Art? On the other hand, it would not have required world-famous eloquence to have turned any audience in Ulster, in 1914, into a crowd by discussing the Home Rule Act. The crowd-spirit depends largely on the subject used to fuse their individualities into one glowing whole.

Note how Antony played upon the feelings of his hearers in the famous funeral oration given by Shakespeare in "Julius Caesar." From murmuring units the men became a unit--a mob.

_ANTONY'S ORATION OVER CaeSAR'S BODY_ Friends, Romans, countrymen! Lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.

The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones: So let it be with Caesar! The n.o.ble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious.

If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answered it.

Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest-- For Brutus is an honorable man, So are they all, all honorable men-- Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.

He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honorable man.

He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honorable man.

You all did see, that, on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And sure, he is an honorable man.

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?

Oh, judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason!--Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me. [_Weeps._

_1 Plebeian._ Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.

_2 Ple._ If thou consider rightly of the matter, Caesar has had great wrong.

_3 Ple._ Has he, masters?

I fear there will a worse come in his place.

_4 Ple._ Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown; Therefore, 'tis certain, he was not ambitious.

_1 Ple._ If it be found so, some will dear abide it.

_2 Ple._ Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping.

_3 Ple._ There's not a n.o.bler man in Rome than Antony.

_4 Ple._ Now mark him, he begins again to speak.

_Ant._ But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.

Oh, masters! if I were dispos'd to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Ca.s.sius wrong, Who, you all know, are honorable men.

I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, Than I will wrong such honorable men.

But here's a parchment, with the seal of Caesar; I found it in his closet; 'tis his will: Let but the commons hear this testament-- Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read-- And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue.

_4 Ple._ We'll hear the will: Read it, Mark Antony.

_All._ The will! the will! we will hear Caesar's will.

_Ant._ Have patience, gentle friends: I must not read it; It is not meet you know how Caesar lov'd you.

You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad: 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs; For if you should, oh, what would come of it!

_4 Ple._ Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony!

You shall read us the will! Caesar's will!

_Ant._ Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?

I have o'ershot myself, to tell you of it.

I fear I wrong the honorable men Whose daggers have stab'd Caesar; I do fear it.

_4 Ple._ They were traitors: Honorable men!

_All._ The will! the testament!

_2 Ple._ They were villains, murtherers! The will! Read the will!

_Ant._ You will compel me then to read the will?

Then, make a ring about the corpse of Caesar, And let me shew you him that made the will.

Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?

_All._ Come down.

_2 Ple._ Descend. [_He comes down from the Rostrum_.

_3 Ple._ You shall have leave.

_4 Ple._ A ring; stand round.

_1 Ple._ Stand from the hea.r.s.e, stand from the body.

_2 Ple._ Room for Antony!--most n.o.ble Antony!

_Ant._ Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.

_All._ Stand back! room! bear back!

_Ant._ If you have tears, prepare to shed them now; You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii.

Look, in this place, ran Ca.s.sius' dagger through: See, what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stab'd; And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it!-- As rus.h.i.+ng out of doors, to be resolv'd If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you G.o.ds, how Caesar lov'd him!