The strange thing about mannerisms is that the speakers are usually unconscious of them, and would be the first to condemn them in others.  The remedy for such defects lies in thorough and severe self-examination and self-criticism.  However eminent a speaker may be with objectionable mannerisms, he would be still greater without them.

Every public speaker has certain characteristics of voice and manner that distinguish him from other men.  In so far as this individuality gives increased power and effectiveness to the speaking style, it is desirable and should be encouraged.  When, however, it is carried to excess, or in any sense offends good taste, it is merely mannerism, and should be discouraged.

There is an objectionable mannerism of the voice, known as “pulpit tone,” that has come to be associated with some preachers.  It takes various forms, such as an unduly elevated key, a drawling monotone, a sudden transition from one extreme of pitch to another, or a tone of condescension.  It is also heard in a plaintive minor inflection, imparting a quality of extreme sadness to a speaker’s style.  These are all departures from the natural, earnest, sincere, and direct delivery that belongs to the high office of preaching.

Still another undesirable mannerism of the voice is that of giving a rising inflection at the close of successive sentences that are obviously complete.  Here the speaker’s thought is left suspended in the air, the hearer feels a sense of disappointment or doubt, and possibly the entire meaning is perverted.  Thoughts delivered in such a manner, unless they distinctly require a rising inflection, lack the emphasis and force of persuasive speaking.

Artificiality, affectation, pomposity, mouthing, undue vehemence, monotony, intoning, and everything that detracts from the simplicity and genuine fervor of the speech should be avoided.  Too much emphasis may drive a thought beyond the mark, and a conscious determination to make a “great speech” may keep the speaker in a state of anxiety throughout its entire delivery.

A clear and correct enunciation is essential, but it should not be pedantic, nor should it attract attention to itself.  “What you are prevents me from hearing what you say,” might also be applied to the manner of the speaker.  Exaggerated opening of the mouth, audible smacking of the lips, holding tenaciously to final consonants, prolonged hissing of sibilants, are all to be condemned.  Hesitation, stumbling over difficult combinations, obscuring final syllables, coalescing the last sound of one word with the first sound of the following word, are inexcusable in a trained speaker.

When the same modulation of the voice is repeated too often, it becomes a mannerism, a kind of monotony of variety.  It reminds one of a street-piano set to but one tune, and is quite as distressing to a sensitive ear.  This is not the style that is expected from a public man.