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.

What should the speaker do with his hands? Do nothing with them unless
they are specifically needed for the more complete expression of a
thought. Let them drop at the sides in their natural relaxed position,
ready for instant use. To press the fist in the hollow of the back in
order to "support" the speaker, to clutch the lapels of the coat, to
slap the hands audibly together, to place the hands on the hips in the
attitude of "vulgar ease," to put the hands into the pockets, to wring
the hands as if "washing them with invisible soap," or to violently
pound the pulpit--these belong to the list of undesirable mannerisms.

At the beginning of a speech it may give the appearance of ease to place