In all speaking be moderate in statement.  Over statement is very dangerous; under statement subtly powerful.  Moderation!  I know but two words so potent—­honor and industry.  Honor, industry, moderation!  What can prevail against this trinity!  And in young men moderation is peculiarly beautiful.

I doubt if any man can be a great speaker who does not have in him the religious element.  I do not mean that he shall be good (one may be good and not religious, or religious and not be good, as any professor of mental and moral philosophy will tell you), but that he shall have in him that mysticism, that elemental and instinctive conviction of the higher power and its providence, which makes him in sympathy with the great mass of humanity.  I think Ingersoll had this element in him, notwithstanding his attacks upon religion.

Emerson has pointed out that the great speaker—­yes, and the great man—­is he who best interprets the common feeling and tendency of the masses.

Very well; the profoundest feeling among the masses, the most influential element in their character, is the religious element.  It is as instinctive and elemental as the law of self-preservation.  It informs the whole intellect and personality of the people.

Therefore he who would greatly influence the people by uttering their unformed thought must have this great invisible and unanalyzable bond of sympathy with them.  I will let your preacher work this out more elaborately for you.

One word more; and to this word listen and hearken and bind it on the tablets of your understanding.

Insincerity cuts the heart out of all oratory.

You may marshal your arguments and concoct your pretty devices of words, and work yourself into a great heat in the speaking of them; but if you do not believe what you say you are only a play-actor after all—­a poor mummer reciting your own lines.

You had far better be a professional actor; that will, at least, insure you excellent lines to declaim.  The dramatic profession is devoted to the interpretation of art in one of its highest forms.  A true actor is a true artist—­painter and sculptor no more so.

If Polus stands on a lower pedestal than Praxiteles in mankind’s esteem it is because his genius was not so brilliant and not because the art of acting is less noble than that of sculpture.  Talma was more eminent than David.  Bernhardt is as noted and notable as Millet, Irving as distinguished as Millais; while in our own country not more than two men in painting and sculpture deserve places beside Booth and Forrest as high priests of Art.

That your audience applauds you is nothing.  The same audience would applaud Paderewski or a great prestidigitator.  You see, your audience may applaud you because you have put your thought cleverly, or juggled your words attractively, or thrown over them that magnetic spell which all great personalities have.  It may clap its hands because you have entertained it.