<h3><SPAN name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></SPAN>CHAPTER IV</h3>
<h4>EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PITCH</h4>
<p>Speech is simply a modified form of singing: the principal
difference being in the fact that in singing the vowel sounds
are prolonged and the intervals are short, whereas in speech the
words are uttered in what may be called "staccato" tones, the
vowels not being specially prolonged and the intervals between
the words being more distinct. The fact that in singing we have
a larger range of tones does not properly distinguish it from
ordinary speech. In speech we have likewise a variation of
tones, and even in ordinary conversation there is a difference
of from three to six semi-tones, as I have found in my
investigations, and in some persons the range is as high as one
octave.—<span class="smcap">William Scheppegrell</span>, <i>Popular Science Monthly</i>.</p>
<p>By pitch, as everyone knows, we mean the relative position of a vocal
tone—as, high, medium, low, or any variation between. In public speech
we apply it not only to a single utterance, as an exclamation or a
monosyllable (<i>Oh!</i> or <i>the</i>) but to any group of syllables, words, and
even sentences that may be spoken in a single tone. This distinction it
is important to keep in mind, for the efficient speaker not only changes
the pitch of successive syllables (see Chapter VII, "Efficiency through
Inflection"), but gives a different pitch to different parts, or
word-groups, of successive sentences. It is this phase of the subject
which we are considering in this chapter.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></SPAN></p>
<p><span class="u"><i>Every Change in the Thought Demands a Change in the Voice-Pitch</i></span></p>
<p>Whether the speaker follows the rule consciously, unconsciously, or
subconsciously, this is the logical basis upon which all good voice
variation is made, yet this law is violated more often than any other by
<i>public</i> speakers. A criminal may disregard a law of the state without
detection and punishment, but the speaker who violates this regulation
suffers its penalty at once in his loss of effectiveness, while his
innocent hearers must endure the monotony—for monotony is not only a
sin of the perpetrator, as we have shown, but a plague on the victims as
well.</p>
<p>Change of pitch is a stumbling block for almost all beginners, and for
many experienced speakers also. This is especially true when the words
of the speech have been memorized.</p>
<p>If you wish to hear how pitch-monotony sounds, strike the same note on
the piano over and over again. You have in your speaking voice a range
of pitch from high to low, with a great many shades between the
extremes. With all these notes available there is no excuse for
offending the ears and taste of your audience by continually using the
one note. True, the reiteration of the same tone in music—as in pedal
point on an organ composition—may be made the foundation of beauty, for
the harmony weaving about that one basic tone produces a consistent,
insistent quality not felt in pure variety of chord sequences. In like
manner the intoning voice in a ritual may—though it rarely
does—possess a solemn beauty. But the public speaker <SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></SPAN>should shun the
monotone as he would a pestilence.</p>
<p><span class="u"><i>Continual Change of Pitch is Nature's Highest Method</i></span></p>
<p>In our search for the principles of efficiency we must continually go
back to nature. Listen—really listen—to the birds sing. Which of these
feathered tribes are most pleasing in their vocal efforts: those whose
voices, though sweet, have little or no range, or those that, like the
canary, the lark, and the nightingale, not only possess a considerable
range but utter their notes in continual variety of combinations? Even a
sweet-toned chirp, when reiterated without change, may grow maddening to
the enforced listener.</p>
<p>The little child seldom speaks in a monotonous pitch. Observe the
conversations of little folk that you hear on the street or in the home,
and note the continual changes of pitch. The unconscious speech of most
adults is likewise full of pleasing variations.</p>
<p>Imagine someone speaking the following, and consider if the effect would
not be just about as indicated. Remember, we are not now discussing the
inflection of single words, but the general pitch in which phrases are
spoken.</p>
<p>(High pitch) "I'd like to leave for my vacation tomorrow,—(lower)
still, I have so much to do. (Higher) Yet I suppose if I wait until I
have time I'll never go."</p>
<p>Repeat this, first in the pitches indicated, and then all in the one
pitch, as many speakers would. Observe the difference in naturalness of
effect.</p>
<p>The following exercise should be spoken in a purely <SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></SPAN>conversational
tone, with numerous changes of pitch. Practise it until your delivery
would cause a stranger in the next room to think you were discussing an
actual incident with a friend, instead of delivering a memorized
monologue. If you are in doubt about the effect you have secured, repeat
it to a friend and ask him if it sounds like memorized words. If it
does, it is wrong.</p>
<p class='center'><i>A SIMILAR CASE</i></p>
<p>Jack, I hear you've gone and done it.—Yes, I know; most fellows
will; went and tried it once myself, sir, though you see I'm
single still. And you met her—did you tell me—down at Newport,
last July, and resolved to ask the question at a <i>soirée</i>? So
did I.</p>
<p>I suppose you left the ball-room, with its music and its light;
for they say love's flame is brightest in the darkness of the
night. Well, you walked along together, overhead the starlit
sky; and I'll bet—old man, confess it—you were frightened. So
was I.</p>
<p>So you strolled along the terrace, saw the summer moonlight pour
all its radiance on the waters, as they rippled on the shore,
till at length you gathered courage, when you saw that none was
nigh—did you draw her close and tell her that you loved her? So
did I.</p>
<p>Well, I needn't ask you further, and I'm sure I wish you joy.
Think I'll wander down and see you when you're married—eh, my
boy? When the honeymoon is over and you're settled down, we'll
try—What? the deuce you say! Rejected—you rejected? So was
I.—<i>Anonymous</i>.</p>
<p>The necessity for changing pitch is so self-evident that it should be
grasped and applied immediately. However, it requires patient drill to
free yourself from monotony of pitch.</p>
<p>In natural conversation you think of an idea first, and then find words
to express it. In memorized speeches <SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></SPAN>you are liable to speak the words,
and then think what they mean—and many speakers seem to trouble very
little even about that. Is it any wonder that reversing the process
should reverse the result? Get back to nature in your methods of
expression.</p>
<p>Read the following selection in a nonchalant manner, never pausing to
think what the words really mean. Try it again, carefully studying the
thought you have assimilated. Believe the idea, desire to express it
effectively, and imagine an audience before you. Look them earnestly in
the face and repeat this truth. If you follow directions, you will note
that you have made many changes of pitch after several readings.</p>
<p>It is not work that kills men; it is worry. Work is healthy; you
can hardly put more upon a man than he can bear. Worry is rust
upon the blade. It is not the revolution that destroys the
machinery but the friction.—<span class="smcap">Henry Ward Beecher</span>.</p>
<p><span class="u"><i>Change of Pitch Produces Emphasis</i></span></p>
<p>This is a highly important statement. Variety in pitch maintains the
hearer's interest, but one of the surest ways to compel attention—to
secure unusual emphasis—is to change the pitch of your voice suddenly
and in a marked degree. A great contrast always arouses attention. White
shows whiter against black; a cannon roars louder in the Sahara silence
than in the Chicago hurly burly—these are simple illustrations of the
power of contrast.</p>
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contrast of pitch">
<tr><td align='left'>"What is Congress going to do next?</td><td align='center'></td><td align='center'></td></tr>
<tr><td align='center'>-----------------------------------</td></tr>
<tr><td align='center'>(High pitch)</td><td align='center'>|</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'>|</td><td align='left'>I do not know."</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'></td><td align='center'>-----------------------------------</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'></td><td align='center'>(Low pitch)</td></tr>
</table>
<p><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></SPAN>By such sudden change of pitch during a sermon Dr. Newell Dwight Hillis
recently achieved great emphasis and suggested the gravity of the
question he had raised.</p>
<p>The foregoing order of pitch-change might be reversed with equally good
effect, though with a slight change in seriousness—either method
produces emphasis when used intelligently, that is, with a common-sense
appreciation of the sort of emphasis to be attained.</p>
<p>In attempting these contrasts of pitch it is important to avoid
unpleasant extremes. Most speakers pitch their voices too high. One of
the secrets of Mr. Bryan's eloquence is his low, bell-like voice.
Shakespeare said that a soft, gentle, low voice was "an excellent thing
in woman;" it is no less so in man, for a voice need not be blatant to
be powerful,—and <i>must</i> not be, to be pleasing.</p>
<p>In closing, let us emphasize anew the importance of using variety of
pitch. You sing up and down the scale, first touching one note and then
another above or below it. Do likewise in speaking.</p>
<p>Thought and individual taste must generally be your guide as to where to
use a low, a moderate, or a high pitch.</p>
<h3>QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES</h3>
<p>1. Name two methods of destroying monotony and gaining force in
speaking.</p>
<p>2. Why is a continual change of pitch necessary in speaking?</p>
<p>3. Notice your habitual tones in speaking. Are they too high to be
pleasant?</p>
<p>4. Do we express the following thoughts and emotions <SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></SPAN>in a low or a high
pitch? Which may be expressed in either high or low pitch? Excitement.
Victory. Defeat. Sorrow. Love. Earnestness. Fear.</p>
<p>5. How would you naturally vary the pitch in introducing an explanatory
or parenthetical expression like the following:</p>
<p>He started—<i>that is, he made preparations to start</i>—on
September third.</p>
<p>6. Speak the following lines with as marked variations in pitch as your
interpretation of the sense may dictate. Try each line in two different
ways. Which, in each instance, is the more effective—and why?</p>
<p>What have I to gain from you? Nothing.</p>
<p>To engage our nation in such a compact would be an infamy.</p>
<p>Note: In the foregoing sentence, experiment as to where the
change in pitch would better be made.</p>
<p>Once the flowers distilled their fragrance here, but now see the
devastations of war.</p>
<p>He had reckoned without one prime factor—his conscience.</p>
<p>7. Make a diagram of a conversation you have heard, showing where high
and low pitches were used. Were these changes in pitch advisable? Why or
why not?</p>
<p>8. Read the selections on pages <SPAN href='#Page_34'>34</SPAN>, <SPAN href='#Page_35'>35</SPAN>, <SPAN href='#Page_36'>36</SPAN>, <SPAN href='#Page_37'>37</SPAN> and <SPAN href='#Page_38'>38</SPAN>, paying careful
attention to the changes in pitch. Reread, substituting low pitch for
high, and vice versa.</p>
<p><span class="u"><i>Selections for Practise</i></span></p>
<p>Note: In the following selections, those passages that may best be
delivered in a moderate pitch are printed in ordinary (roman) type.
Those which may be rendered <SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></SPAN>in a high pitch—do not make the mistake of
raising the voice too high—are printed <i>in italics</i>. Those which might
well be spoken in a low pitch are printed in <i>CAPITALS</i>.</p>
<p>These arrangements, however, are merely suggestive—we cannot make it
strong enough that you must use your own judgment in interpreting a
selection. Before doing so, however, it is well to practise these
passages as they are marked.</p>
<p><i>Yes, all men labor. RUFUS CHOATE AND DANIEL WEBSTER</i> labor, say
the critics. But every man who reads of the labor question knows
that it means the movement of the men that earn their living
with their hands; <i>THAT ARE EMPLOYED, AND PAID WAGES: are
gathered under roofs of factories, sent out on farms, sent out
on ships, gathered on the walls.</i> In popular acceptation, the
working class means the men that work with their hands, for
wages, so many hours a day, employed by great capitalists; that
work for everybody else. Why do we move for this class? "<i>Why</i>,"
asks a critic, "<i>don't you move FOR ALL WORKINGMEN?" BECAUSE,
WHILE DANIEL WEBSTER GETS FORTY THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR ARGUING THE
MEXICAN CLAIMS, there is no need of anybody's moving for him.
BECAUSE, WHILE RUFUS CHOATE GETS FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR
MAKING ONE ARGUMENT TO A JURY, there is no need of moving for
him, or for the men that work with their brains</i>,—that do
highly disciplined and skilled labor, invent, and write books.
The reason why the Labor movement confines itself to a single
class is because that class of work <i>DOES NOT GET PAID, does not
get protection. MENTAL LABOR is adequately paid</i>, and <i>MORE THAN
ADEQUATELY protected. IT CAN SHIFT ITS CHANNELS; it can vary
according to the supply and demand</i>.</p>
<p><i>IF A MAN FAILS AS A MINISTER, why, he becomes a railway
conductor. IF THAT DOESN'T SUIT HIM, he goes West, and becomes
governor of a territory. AND IF HE FINDS HIMSELF INCAPABLE OF
EITHER OF THESE POSITIONS, he comes home, and gets to be a city
editor</i>. He varies his occupation <SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></SPAN>as he pleases, and doesn't
need protection. <i>BUT THE GREAT MASS, CHAINED TO A TRADE, DOOMED
TO BE GROUND UP IN THE MILL OF SUPPLY AND DEMAND, THAT WORK SO
MANY HOURS A DAY, AND MUST RUN IN THE GREAT RUTS OF
BUSINESS,—they are the men whose inadequate protection, whose
unfair share of the general product, claims a movement in their
behalf</i>.</p>
<p class='author'>—<span class="smcap">Wendell Phillips</span>.</p>
<p><i>KNOWING THE PRICE WE MUST PAY, THE SACRIFICE WE MUST MAKE, THE
BURDENS WE MUST CARRY, THE ASSAULTS WE MUST ENDURE—KNOWING FULL
WELL THE COST</i>—yet we enlist, and we enlist for the war.<i> FOR WE
KNOW THE JUSTICE OF OUR CAUSE</i>, and we know, too, its certain
triumph.</p>
<p><i>NOT RELUCTANTLY THEN</i>, but eagerly, not with <i>faint hearts BUT
STRONG, do we now advance upon the enemies of the people. FOR
THE CALL THAT COMES TO US is the call that came to our fathers</i>.
As they responded so shall we.</p>
<p>"<i>HE HATH SOUNDED FORTH A TRUMPET that shall never call retreat.
HE IS SIFTING OUT THE HEARTS OF MEN before His judgment seat.
OH, BE SWIFT OUR SOULS TO ANSWER HIM, BE JUBILANT OUR FEET,
Our God is marching on</i>."</p>
<p class='author'>—<span class="smcap">Albert J. Beveridge</span>.</p>
<p>Remember that two sentences, or two parts of the same sentence, which
contain changes of thought, cannot possibly be given effectively in the
same key. Let us repeat, every big change of thought requires a big
change of pitch. What the beginning student will think are big changes
of pitch will be monotonously alike. Learn to speak some thoughts in a
very high tone—others in a <i>very</i>, <i>very</i> low tone. <i>DEVELOP RANGE.</i> It
is almost impossible to use too much of it.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></SPAN></p>
<p><i>HAPPY AM I THAT THIS MISSION HAS BROUGHT MY FEET AT LAST TO
PRESS NEW ENGLAND'S HISTORIC SOIL and my eyes to the knowledge
of her beauty and her thrift.</i> Here within touch of Plymouth
Rock and Bunker Hill—<i>WHERE WEBSTER THUNDERED and Longfellow
sang, Emerson thought AND CHANNING PREACHED—HERE IN THE CRADLE
OF AMERICAN LETTERS and almost of American liberty,</i> I hasten to
make the obeisance that every American owes New England when
first he stands uncovered in her mighty presence. <i>Strange
apparition!</i> This stern and unique figure—carved from the ocean
and the wilderness—its majesty kindling and growing amid the
storms of winter and of wars—until at last the gloom was
broken, <i>ITS BEAUTY DISCLOSED IN THE SUNSHINE, and the heroic
workers rested at its base</i>—while startled kings and emperors
gazed and marveled that from the rude touch of this handful cast
on a bleak and unknown shore should have come the <i>embodied
genius of human government AND THE PERFECTED MODEL OF HUMAN
LIBERTY!</i> God bless the memory of those immortal workers, and
prosper the fortunes of their living sons—and perpetuate the
inspiration of their handiwork....</p>
<p>Far to the South, Mr. President, separated from this section by
a line—<i>once defined in irrepressible difference, once traced
in fratricidal blood, AND NOW, THANK GOD, BUT A VANISHING
SHADOW—lies the fairest and richest domain of this earth. It is
the home of a brave and hospitable people. THERE IS CENTERED ALL
THAT CAN PLEASE OR PROSPER HUMANKIND. A PERFECT CLIMATE ABOVE a
fertile soil</i> yields to the husbandman every product of the
temperate zone.</p>
<p>There, by night <i>the cotton whitens beneath the stars,</i> and by
day <i>THE WHEAT LOCKS THE SUNSHINE IN ITS BEARDED SHEAF.</i> In the
same field the clover steals the fragrance of the wind, and
tobacco catches the quick aroma of the rains. <i>THERE ARE
MOUNTAINS STORED WITH EXHAUSTLESS TREASURES: forests—vast and
primeval;</i> and rivers that, <i>tumbling or loitering, run wanton to
the sea.</i> Of the three essential items of all industries—cotton,
iron and wood—that region has easy control. <i>IN COTTON, a fixed
monopoly—IN IRON, proven supremacy—IN TIMBER, the
reserve supply of the Republic.</i> From this assured and
permanent advantage, against which artificial conditions cannot
much longer prevail, has grown an amazing system of industries.
Not maintained by human contrivance of tariff or capital, afar
off from the fullest and cheapest source of supply, but resting
in divine assurance, within touch of field and mine and forest—not
set amid costly farms from which competition has driven the
farmer in despair, but amid cheap and sunny lands, rich with
agriculture, to which neither season nor soil has set a limit—this
system of industries is mounting to a splendor that shall dazzle
and illumine the world. <i>THAT, SIR, is the picture and the promise
of my home—A LAND BETTER AND FAIRER THAN I HAVE TOLD YOU, and
yet but fit setting in its material excellence for the loyal and
gentle quality of its citizenship.</i></p>
<p><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></SPAN>This hour little needs the <i>LOYALTY THAT IS LOYAL TO ONE SECTION
and yet holds the other in enduring suspicion and estrangement.</i>
Give us the <i>broad</i> and <i>perfect loyalty that loves and trusts
GEORGIA</i> alike with <i>Massachusetts</i>—that knows no <i>SOUTH</i>, no
<i>North</i>, no <i>EAST</i>, no <i>West</i>, but <i>endears with equal and
patriotic love</i> every foot of our soil, every State of our
Union.</p>
<p><i>A MIGHTY DUTY, SIR, AND A MIGHTY INSPIRATION impels every one
of us to-night to lose in patriotic consecration WHATEVER
ESTRANGES, WHATEVER DIVIDES.</i></p>
<p><i>WE, SIR, are Americans—AND WE STAND FOR HUMAN LIBERTY!</i> The
uplifting force of the American idea is under every throne on
earth. <i>France, Brazil—THESE ARE OUR VICTORIES. To redeem the
earth from kingcraft and oppression—THIS IS OUR MISSION! AND WE
SHALL NOT FAIL.</i> God has sown in our soil the seed of His
millennial harvest, and He will not lay the sickle to the
ripening crop until His full and perfect day has come. <i>OUR
HISTORY, SIR, has been a constant and expanding miracle, FROM
PLYMOUTH ROCK AND JAMESTOWN,</i> all the way—aye, even from the
hour when from the voiceless and traceless ocean a new world
rose to the sight of the inspired sailor. As we approach the
fourth centennial of that stupendous day—when the old world
will come to <i>marvel</i> and to <i>learn</i> amid our gathered
treasures—let us resolve to crown the miracles of our past with
the spectacle of a Republic, <i>compact, united INDISSOLUBLE IN
THE BONDS OF LOVE</i>—loving from <SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></SPAN>the Lakes to the Gulf—the
wounds of war healed in every heart as on every hill, <i>serene
and resplendent AT THE SUMMIT OF HUMAN ACHIEVEMENT AND EARTHLY
GLORY, blazing out the path and making clear the way up which
all the nations of the earth, must come in God's appointed
time!</i></p>
<p class='author'>—<span class="smcap">Henry W. Grady</span>, <i>The Race Problem</i>.</p>
<p> ... <i>I WOULD CALL HIM NAPOLEON</i>, but Napoleon made his way to
empire <i>over broken oaths and through a sea of blood.</i> This man
never broke his word. "No Retaliation" was his great motto and
the rule of his life; <i>AND THE LAST WORDS UTTERED TO HIS SON IN
FRANCE WERE THESE: "My boy, you will one day go back to Santo
Domingo; forget that France murdered your father." I WOULD CALL
HIM CROMWELL,</i> but Cromwell <i>was only a soldier, and the state
he founded went down with him into his grave. I WOULD CALL HIM
WASHINGTON,</i> but the great Virginian <i>held slaves. THIS MAN
RISKED HIS EMPIRE rather than permit the slave-trade in the
humblest village of his dominions.</i></p>
<p><i>YOU THINK ME A FANATIC TO-NIGHT,</i> for you read history, <i>not
with your eyes, BUT WITH YOUR PREJUDICES.</i> But fifty years
hence, when Truth gets a hearing, the Muse of History will put
<i>PHOCION for the Greek,</i> and <i>BRUTUS for the Roman, HAMPDEN for
England, LAFAYETTE for France,</i> choose <i>WASHINGTON as the
bright, consummate flower of our EARLIER civilization, AND JOHN
BROWN the ripe fruit of our NOONDAY,</i> then, dipping her pen in
the sunlight, will write in the clear blue, above them all, the
name of <i>THE SOLDIER, THE STATESMAN, THE MARTYR, TOUSSAINT
L'OUVERTURE.</i></p>
<p class='author'>—<span class="smcap">Wendell Phillips</span>, <i>Toussaint l'Ouverture</i>.</p>
<p>Drill on the following selections for change of pitch: Beecher's
"Abraham Lincoln," p. 76; Seward's "Irrepressible Conflict," p. 67;
Everett's "History of Liberty," p. 78; Grady's "The Race Problem," p.
36; and Beveridge's "Pass Prosperity Around," p. 470.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></SPAN></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />