Beginning, then, with physical precautions against needless "offences," [Greek: skandala], in our preaching I say first, let us do our best to be _audible_.
The word sounds almost amusingly commonplace. But it must be said. Many more of us Clergymen than know it, or think about it, are not audible. The lack of training for the bodily work of the pulpit, in our Church, is serious; far more is done in this way among our Nonconformist brethren.[29] And accordingly there are numbers of young English Clergymen who read and speak without a thought of methodical audibility. They do not articulate distinctly. They do not remember that the _pace_ and _force_ of utterance, fit for a private room, are quite unfit for a large building. They do not know, perhaps, how extremely important is the articulation of consonants, and of final syllables of words, and of closing words in a sentence. They do not know that a certain equability (not monotony) of voice is necessary, if the utterance is to "carry" to the end of a long church, or a church of many pillars.
[29] Let me cordially commend the Rev. J.P. Sandlands' book, _The Voice and Public Speaking_. Mr Sandlands has done, and is doing, admirable work as an oral teacher of clerical elocution, in the intervals of his parochial labours.
Or again, they do not know, or do not remember, that audibility is not secured by mere loudness and bigness of voice, nor again by raising the voice to a high pitch. "People tell you to speak up," said that excellent elocutionist, Mr Simeon; "but I say, speak down," down as regards the musical scale. Again, the larger the building the more accentuated must be the articulation, and the more limited the variation of pitch; but too often this is not thought of by the preacher.
Further, it has to be remembered, but it is frequently forgotten, that the audibility we should aim at is a pleasant and attractive audibility. It is a great thing to be easily heard; which of us does not know the combined physical and mental labour of listening to a sermon, or a speech, which only reaches us indistinctly? But it is a greater thing to be pleasantly heard; heard so that the listener finds nothing to tire and repel in the utterance. Here, of course, different voices give very different advantages; but there are some common secrets, so to speak, which all--who will make a sacred business of it--may profitably and effectively use. Above all, there is the secret of quiet naturalness; the watchful avoidance (do not forget this) of tricks and mannerisms in delivery;[30] the watchful cultivation of the sort of utterance which we should use in an earnest conversation on grave subjects, with only such differences as are suggested by _the size_ of the place in which we speak. Of some other "common secrets" I shall speak when I come to the question of style and phrase.
[30] I have known a sermon which in matter and style were really excellent made, to some hearers at least, almost unendurable by the accident that the preacher had got the habit of (needlessly) _clearing his throat_ at the end of almost every sentence.