To feel that I have given as much joy as the circus fills me with pleasure. What chance would the Rev. Dr. Banks stand against a circus?
The reverend gentleman has done me a great honor, and I tender him my sincere thanks.
_Question_. Dr. Banks says that you write only one lecture a year, while preachers write a brand new one every week--that if you did that people would tire of you. What have you to say to that?
_Answer_. It may be that great artists paint only one picture a year, and it may be that sign painters can do several jobs a day.
Still, I would not say that the sign painters were superior to the artists. There is quite a difference between a sculptor and a stone-cutter.
There are thousands of preachers and thousands and thousands of sermons preached every year. Has any orthodox minister in the year 1898 given just one paragraph to literature? Has any orthodox preacher uttered one great thought, clothed in perfect English that thrilled the hearers like music--one great strophe that became one of the treasures of memory?
I will make the question a little clearer. Has any orthodox preacher, or any preacher in an orthodox pulpit uttered a paragraph of what may be called sculptured speech since Henry Ward Beecher died? I do not wonder that the sermons are poor. Their doctrines have been discussed for centuries. There is little chance for originality; they not only thresh old straw, but the thresh straw that has been threshed a million times--straw in which there has not been a grain of wheat for hundreds of years. No wonder that they have nervous prostration. No wonder that they need vacations, and no wonder that their congregations enjoy the vacations as keenly as the ministers themselves. Better deliver a real good address fifty-two times than fifty-two poor ones--just for the sake of variety.
_Question_. Dr. Banks says that the tendency at present is not toward Agnosticism, but toward Christianity. What is your opinion?
_Answer_. When I was a boy "Infidels" were very rare. A man who denied the inspiration of the Bible was regarded as a monster.
Now there are in this country millions who regard the Bible as the work of ignorant and superstitious men. A few years ago the Bible was the standard. All scientific theories were tested by the Bible.
Now science is the standard and the Bible is tested by that.
Dr. Banks did not mention the names of the great scientists who are or were Christians, but he probably thought of Laplace, Humboldt, Haeckel, Huxley, Spencer, Tyndall, Darwin, Helmholtz and Draper.
When he spoke of Christian statesmen he likely thought of Jefferson, Franklin, Washington, Paine and Lincoln--or he may have thought of Pierce, Fillmore and Buchanan.
But, after all, there is no argument in names. A man is not necessarily great because he holds office or wears a crown or talks in a pulpit. Facts, reasons, are better than names. But it seems to me that nothing can be plainer than that the church is losing ground--that the people are discarding the creeds and that superstition has passed the zenith of its power.
_Question_. Dr. Banks says that Christ did not mention the Western Hemisphere because God does nothing for men that they can do for themselves. What have you to say?
_Answer_. Christ said nothing about the Western Hemisphere because he did not know that it existed. He did not know the shape of the earth. He was not a scientist--never even hinted at any science-- never told anybody to investigate--to think. His idea was that this life should be spent in preparing for the next. For all the evils of this life, and the next, faith was his remedy.
I see from the report in the paper that Dr. Banks, after making the remarks about me preached a sermon on "Herod the Villain in the Drama of Christ." Who made Herod? Dr. Banks will answer that God made him. Did God know what Herod would do? Yes. Did he know that he would cause the children to be slaughtered in his vain efforts to kill the infant Christ? Yes. Dr. Banks will say that God is not responsible for Herod because he gave Herod freedom.
Did God know how Herod would use his freedom? Did he know that he would become the villain in the drama of Christ? Yes. Who, then, is really responsible for the acts of Herod?
If I could change a stone into a human being, and if I could give this being freedom of will, and if I knew that if I made him he would murder a man, and if with that knowledge I made him, and he did commit a murder, who would be the real murderer?
Will Dr. Banks in his fifty-two sermons of next year show that his God is not responsible for the crimes of Herod?
No doubt Dr. Banks is a good man, and no doubt he thinks that liberty of thought leads to hell, and honestly believes that all doubt comes from the Devil. I do not blame him. He thinks as he must. He is a product of conditions.
He ought to be my friend because I am doing the best I can to civilize his congregation.
--_The Plain Dealer_, Cleveland, Ohio, 1898.
CUBA--ZOLA AND THEOSOPHY.
_Question_. What do you think, Colonel, of the Cuban question?
_Answer_. What I know about this question is known by all. I suppose that the President has information that I know nothing about. Of course, all my sympathies are with the Cubans. They are making a desperate--an heroic struggle for their freedom. For many years they have been robbed and trampled under foot. Spain is, and always has been, a terrible master--heartless and infamous.
There is no language with which to tell what Cuba has suffered.
In my judgment, this country should assist the Cubans. We ought to acknowledge the independence of that island, and we ought to feed the starving victims of Spain. For years we have been helping Spain. Cleveland did all he could to prevent the Cubans from getting arms and men. This was a criminal mistake--a mistake that even Spain did not appreciate. All this should instantly be reversed, and we should give aid to Cuba. The war that Spain is waging shocks every civilized man. Spain has always been the same.
In Holland, in Peru, in Mexico, she was infinitely cruel, and she is the same to-day. She loves to torture, to imprison, to degrade, to kill. Her idea of perfect happiness is to shed blood. Spain is a legacy of the Dark Ages. She belongs to the den, the cave period. She has no business to exist. She is a blot, a stain on the map of the world. Of course there are some good Spaniards, but they are not in control.
I want Cuba to be free. I want Spain driven from the Western World.
She has already starved five hundred thousand Cubans--poor, helpless non-combatants. Among the helpless she is like a hyena--a tiger among lambs. This country ought to stop this gigantic crime. We should do this in the name of humanity--for the sake of the starving, the dying.
_Question_. Do you think we are going to have war with Spain?
_Answer_. I do not think there will be war. Unless Spain is insane, she will not attack the United States. She is bankrupt.
No nation will assist her. A civilized nation would be ashamed to take her hand, to be her friend. She has not the power to put down the rebellion in Cuba. How then can she hope to conquer this country? She is full of brag and bluster. Of course she will play her hand for all it is worth, so far as talk goes. She will double her fists and make motions. She will assume the attitude of war, but she will never fight. Should she commence hostilities, the war would be short. She would lose her navy. The little commerce she has would be driven from the sea. She would drink to the dregs the cup of humiliation and disgrace. I do not believe that Spain is insane enough to fire upon our flag. I know that there is nothing too mean, too cruel for her to do, but still she must have sense enough to try and save her own life. No, I think there will be no war, but I believe that Cuba will be free. My opinion is that the Maine was blown up from the outside--blown up by Spanish officers, and I think the report of the Board will be to that effect. Such a crime ought to redden even the cheeks of Spain.
As soon as this fact is known, other nations will regard Spain with hatred and horror. If the Maine was destroyed by Spain we will ask for indemnity. The people insist that the account be settled and at once. Possibly we may attack Spain. There is the only danger of war. We must avenge that crime. The destruction of two hundred and fifty-nine Americans must be avenged. Free Cuba must be their monument. I hope for the sake of human nature that the Spanish did not destroy the Maine. I hope it was the result of an accident. I hope there is to be no war, but Spain must be driven from the New World.
_Question_. What about Zola's trial and conviction?
_Answer_. It was one of the most infamous trials in the history of the world. Zola is a great man, a genius, the best man in France. His trial was a travesty on justice. The judge acted like a bandit. The proceedings were a disgrace to human nature. The jurors must have been ignorant beasts. The French have disgraced themselves. Long live Zola.
_Question_. Having expressed yourself less upon the subject of Theosophy than upon other religious beliefs, and as Theosophy denies the existence of a God as worshiped by Christianity, what is your idea of the creed?
_Answer_. Insanity. I think it is a mild form of delusion and illusion; vague, misty, obscure, half dream, mixed with other mistakes and fragments of facts--a little philosophy, absurdity-- a few impossibilities--some improbabilities--some accounts of events that never happened--some prophecies that will not come to pass-- a structure without foundation. But the Theosophists are good people; kind and honest. Theosophy is based on the supernatural and is just as absurd as the orthodox creeds.
--_The Courier-Journal_, Louisville, Ky., February, 1898.
HOW TO BECOME AN ORATOR.
_Question_. What advice would you give to a young man who was ambitious to become a successful public speaker or orator?
_Answer_. In the first place, I would advise him to have something to say--something worth saying--something that people would be glad to hear. This is the important thing. Back of the art of speaking must be the power to think. Without thoughts words are empty purses. Most people imagine that almost any words uttered in a loud voice and accompanied by appropriate gestures, constitute an oration. I would advise the young man to study his subject, to find what others had thought, to look at it from all sides. Then I would tell him to write out his thoughts or to arrange them in his mind, so that he would know exactly what he was going to say.
Waste no time on the how until you are satisfied with the what.
After you know what you are to say, then you can think of how it should be said. Then you can think about tone, emphasis, and gesture; but if you really understand what you say, emphasis, tone, and gesture will take care of themselves. All these should come from the inside. They should be in perfect harmony with the feelings. Voice and gesture should be governed by the emotions.
They should unconsciously be in perfect agreement with the sentiments.
The orator should be true to his subject, should avoid any reference to himself.
The great column of his argument should be unbroken. He can adorn it with vines and flowers, but they should not be in such profusion as to hide the column. He should give variety of episode by illustrations, but they should be used only for the purpose of adding strength to the argument. The man who wishes to become an orator should study language. He should know the deeper meaning of words. He should understand the vigor and velocity of verbs and the color of adjectives. He should know how to sketch a scene, to paint a picture, to give life and action. He should be a poet and a dramatist, a painter and an actor. He should cultivate his imagination. He should become familiar with the great poetry and fiction, with splendid and heroic deeds. He should be a student of Shakespeare. He should read and devour the great plays. From Shakespeare he could learn the art of expression, of compression, and all the secrets of the head and heart.
The great orator is full of variety--of surprises. Like a juggler, he keeps the colored balls in the air. He expresses himself in pictures. His speech is a panorama. By continued change he holds the attention. The interest does not flag. He does not allow himself to be anticipated. A picture is shown but once. So, an orator should avoid the commonplace. There should be no stuffing, no filling. He should put no cotton with his silk, no common metals with his gold. He should remember that "gilded dust is not as good as dusted gold." The great orator is honest, sincere. He does not pretend. His brain and heart go together. Every drop of his blood is convinced. Nothing is forced. He knows exactly what he wishes to do--knows when he has finished it, and stops.
Only a great orator knows when and how to close. Most speakers go on after they are through. They are satisfied only with a "lame and impotent conclusion." Most speakers lack variety. They travel a straight and dusty road. The great orator is full of episode.
He convinces and charms by indirection. He leaves the road, visits the fields, wanders in the woods, listens to the murmurs of springs, the songs of birds. He gathers flowers, scales the crags and comes back to the highway refreshed, invigorated. He does not move in a straight line. He wanders and winds like a stream.
Of course, no one can tell a man what to do to become an orator.
The great orator has that wonderful thing called presence. He has that strange something known as magnetism. He must have a flexible, musical voice, capable of expressing the pathetic, the humorous, the heroic. His body must move in unison with his thought. He must be a reasoner, a logician. He must have a keen sense of humor --of the laughable. He must have wit, sharp and quick. He must have sympathy. His smiles should be the neighbors of his tears.
He must have imagination. He should give eagles to the air, and painted moths should flutter in the sunlight.
While I cannot tell a man what to do to become an orator, I can tell him a few things not to do. There should be no introduction to an oration. The orator should commence with his subject. There should be no prelude, no flourish, no apology, no explanation. He should say nothing about himself. Like a sculptor, he stands by his block of stone. Every stroke is for a purpose. As he works the form begins to appear. When the statue is finished the workman stops. Nothing is more difficult than a perfect close. Few poems, few pieces of music, few novels end well. A good story, a great speech, a perfect poem should end just at the proper point. The bud, the blossom, the fruit. No delay. A great speech is a crystallization in its logic, an efflorescence in its poetry.
I have not heard many speeches. Most of the great speakers in our country were before my time. I heard Beecher, and he was an orator.
He had imagination, humor and intensity. His brain was as fertile as the valleys of the tropics. He was too broad, too philosophic, too poetic for the pulpit. Now and then, he broke the fetters of his creed, escaped from his orthodox prison, and became sublime.