---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 34
number: 1
published: 1930-11
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: "Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, “Foreign Lecturers,” *Improvement Era* 34, no. 1 (November 1930): 5–8."
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3401unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera3401unse
start_page: 5
end_page: 8
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1930-11)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3401unse
  publication_year: 1930
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1930, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Foreign Lecturers

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THE IMPROVEMENT ERA =g^ Vol. 34-42 NOVEMBER, 1930 No. 1 Foreign Lecturers WHEN in the course of human events did people first be- gin to sit in rows and listen to lectures? This is a point, we believe, of extreme moment in the history of human cul- ture, though little noted by modern social philosophers. With it, beyond doubt, a new stage was reached in what may fairly be called the domestication of man. For it is one thing to sit drowsily by the fireside of an evening listen- ing to the family gossip or wrap- ped in one's own thoughts, and quite another to assemble with scores of others in a spacious hall and sit quietly by while someone amidst perfect silence discourses more or less entertainingly upon some subject in which you may or may not be interested. From this it is but a step to the final stage in the process, when one passes directly from one lecture to another. Many active women at- tend two or three lectures in a single day and some times day after day. For short periods and under high pressure, as at Chau- tauqua, women and even men, sur- pass this record. To such persons the term thirsters has been aptly applied. They represent the sub- limation of the thing. TJOW did it all begin? Did peo- pie commence by instinctively gathering together, and then to ra- tionalize their action, pounce upon some one pi their number and compel him to address them? Or did some compelling personality with an inward urge toward self expression, herd them together, to satisfy his yearning for public- speaking? Who can say? For be it understood the problem is not that of religious or political meet- ings, where you are trying to get people to do or believe something, but of those purely cultural gath- By DR. EDGAR J. GOODSPEED erings where no particular course of action is necessarily expected of one's auditors; the thing is done simply for its own sake. The earliest exponent of the lecturing profession whom I seem to recall was the wily Odysseus. His illustrious biographer also speaks of him as hardy, which was then as now an indispensable ele- ment in the make-up of the suc- cessful lecturer, if he is to travel far afield without losing his ef- ficiency. And it must be said to his credit that Odysseus did not shrink from long and arduous journeys in his laudable endeavor to fill his numerous speaking en- gagements and not disappoint his audiences, a thing which all the best exponents of the profession have always abhorred. AS I remember it, Odysseus gen- -**• erally lectured away from home, so that he is the august pro- D, 'R. EDGAR JOHNSON GOODSPEED, professor of Bib- lical Greek at the University of Chicago, is known to the inter- mountain west, but not by reputa- tion alone. Having been a guest professor at the Brigham Young University during the summer of 1930, he made contacts with the students of that institution which will not soon be forgotten. The author of the American translation of the New Testament, he is also recognized as one of the nation's leading authorities on original Greek manuscripts, and his contri- butions in this field are many and valuable. The Era is delighted to publish an article of this type from this scholarly gentleman and hopes that more will follow. totype not only of lecturers in general, but in particular of the traveling or even the foreign lecturer. Indeed it was no small measure the exotic character of his personality and hence naturally of his re- marks, that made him such a success. Think for example of what it means to many a lecturer today to be endowed with a rich Scottish accent! This, or the an- cient equivalent of it, Odysseus undoubtedly possessed, and if he was the man we take him for, he made the most of it. Again, like most foreign lecturers today, he had one especially good lecture which never failed to please, — an absolutely sure-fire proposition. Like many of our best modern lectures it was largely autobio- graphical in character, and as time went on it naturally became so extended that it was necessary to give it as a series, or in two parts with a short intermission. The modern analogies of this method hardly need to be pointed out. \JOW it is at once apparent that *V in this matter of lecturers, we in this country are peculiarly for- tunate. In this respect at least we are certainly in the position of the most favored nation, for not only have we a large native population of lecturers, (the lector Ameri- canus vulgaris of science) but for some occult reason the lecturers of all other continents and even is- lands, as soon as they are old enough to accept a fee, — the un- failing mark of the adult of the species — make for American shores. As the seals in spring obeying some mysterious inner im- pulse, seek a common goal, iso do the great shoals of lecturers with one accord head in the au- tumn for the American littorral. Nor do they stop there, but in obedience to some obscure instinct,

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The Improvement Era for November, 1930 often penetrate far into the interi- or, lecturing as they go. Indeed there are well-authenticated in- stances of lecturers who have in this manner actually eaten their way across the continent, finally emerging at the Valley Hunt Club in Pasadena, or the Bohemian in San Francisco. Nowhere therefore can the lec- turer be so broadly and objectively studied as here. Who has not heard, right here at home, Italian, . French, Danish, Russian, Austrian, German, Belgian, Swiss, English, Irish, and Scottish — above all Scottish — lecturers? There are also Canadian lecturers and lectur- ers from South America (Cannon to north of them, cannon to south of them!) Australia or New Zea- land now and then uttereth speech, and India, China or Japan sheweth knowledge. '"THERE was undoubtedly once • a time in our history when we in this country produced our own lecturers and were in this re- spect as in so many others, self- sufficient. Those were the days of the lyceums, of Artemas Ward, Petroleum V. Nasby and Mark Twain. Aliens like Charles Dick- ens seldom penetrated here. But the extraordinary avidity of our people for lectures, once the taste for them had been formed, soon developed out of all proportion to the home supply. It is true the early American lecturer was in a class by himself. He left nothing to be desired. Think of such names as Josh Billings and Ralph Waldo Emerson! But there were not enough of him, and in accord- ance with the well known law of supply and demand, lecturers from other lands where there were more lecturers than audiences began to rush into the vacuum. This was heroic behavior on their part and was effected at no small cost to themselves. Every English novel reveals the blank dismay with which the true Eng- lishman contemplates the prospect of living, even for a limited pe- riod, outside of London. Exile is too mild a word for it ; it really amounts to being engulfed in obli- vion. Further than that, one is cut off from true British food, boiled beef, steamed potatoes, ham and veal pie and vegetable marrow. XTOT only are English lecturers -^ cut off from the delicacies of well-ordered British life, but they are plunged into the perils and difficulties of existence in America. I have seen a seasoned Oxford lecturer stand in positive horror before an American hotel only about as large as all the hotels in Scotland combined, and rail against it. Why? He did not have to live in it; he was staying with me. But some subtle British in- stinct told him there was not a single wash-hand-stand in the en- tire building. His whole social background rose up in subcon- scious protest against it, and all that it implied. Even this is not all. The for- eign lecturer has often to intro- duce changes and alterations into his lecture before he can give- it with full effectiveness all over this country. This may seem a small matter. But Englishmen seldom change. In fact what they call their "burden" is changing the rest of us to match them. A celebrated Oxford don once lecturing in Chi- cago paid a glowing tribute to a well known California philan- thropist, who it seemed was en- titled to the credit for having brought him there to lecture. He then tactfully paused for a mo- ment to remark that this state- ment was really meant for his audience in California, where it appeared he had last delivered the lecture. He went on from us to the east, where I have no doubt he continued to praise his Cali- fornia patron, always with the conscientious foot-note apprising them that the remark had there at least been appropriate. It. is, therefore, no reflection upon these heroic men to say that they are reluctant to change. T3UT lest we seem ungracious let us hasten to say how great is the debt American lecturers owe Deer this thin red line of reinforcement. French, German and Italian lec- turers might have done something; in fact they have; but their Eng- lish is so decidedly continental in character and especially in accent, that American audiences still strongly prefer the English and es- pecially the Scottish kind. A gi- gantic Teutonic sea-lord standing up before an American audience and loudly insisting with every mark of sincerity that he is just a "kit," perplexes our people. It seems improbable, but what if he is? Why make so much of it? Grimm's law is of course what they need, but they can hardly be expected to know it well enough to work it backwards. No, the British lecturer may be less pictur- esque, but we can undoubtedly follow him better. It is therefore to the British expeditionary lecture force that we owe the preservation of the American species of lecturer. But for their timely arrival he would have died of overwork and dis- appeared like the "bison or the dodo. Consider what they still have to do. One, of my acquaint- ance, whose efficiency is for vari- ous reasons highest in June, once delivered three commencement ad- dresses within twenty-four hours. Of course, as I pointed out to him, even he could not have done such a thing except where the popula- tion was very dense. (^LEARLY, the American lec- ^ turer is not shirking. He is working at his maximum. But if, as the English put it modestly, he is doing his bit, the American audiences are ,d°ing still better. The trouble is our numbers are too small. What we need is 10,000 volunteer lecturers to help meet the insistent demand of our fellow citizens for more lectures. It is perfectly true, and I should be the first to admit it, that some of our foreign reinforcements pre- sent features that we cannot match. One very brilliant Russian lecturer began by making a tour of the platform, extreme right, extreme left, extreme right, ex- treme left, never stopping even at the desk where the chairman had originally deposited him. We sup- posed, indeed, we rather hoped, that after warming up in this way he would steady down and find the desk again. But not at all. He continued to pace swiftly to and fro without a moment's pause for

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The Improvement Era for November, 1930 a full hour, when this sentry-go and the lecture came to a simul- taneous end. He had walked an even four miles. A GREAT Swedish explorer is ^■^ accustomed to relate to his au- diences the unspeakably touching story of the death in the desert of his faithful and beloved drago- man. When emotion is at the highest pitch, he throws upon the screen a picture of the funeral of his lamented friend, taken at the very instant of interment, — thus showing how even in his loneli- ness and grief his sense of responsi- bility to his lecture audiences did not wholly desert him, and he was able to control himself sufficiently to slip aside from his place as chief-mourner long enough to take the all important picture. It takes a strong man to be a lecturer; one who can even in times of ut- most stress remember that the lec- ture platform is his goal, and that far-off future audience his public. But strange and exciting as the habits of other nationals may be, none can surpass in sheer idiosyn- cracy the familiar, common, every- day British lecturer. I know one who when conversation languishes enlivens the proceedings with a rich guttural grunt, — the ugh of the American Indian, uttered in no half-hearted, casual fashion, but with all the satisfaction, the conviction, the impressement, — of Chingachgook, Oshkosh, or Pow- hatan. Another Oxonian of my ac- quaintance in his public utterances would invariably preface anything especially good he had to say with an exhilarating sniff: much as Mr. Taft used to signal to the audi- ence that something unusual was coming with his well-known and infectious snicker. Mr. Taft was so far I know the last among us to practice the snicker. With him, it may as an expression of amusement be said to have per- ished. QNE ENGLISH lecturer used to ^ go about among us wearing a half-length academic gown like nothing known in this country. It was his wont to retreat at intervals to the back of the stage, a distance of four or five feet, and then rush at full speed toward his audience, as though he would hurl himself into their midst; to the great alarm of the front seats, which naturally feared that he might not always check himself in time. But it must be admitted that little devices like this seldom fail to reawaken in- terest even in the most sodden au- diences. One of the greatest contribu- tions made to the profession by our British confreres is their em- bodiment of the great ideal of thrift. An especially distinguished one, recently leaving town after an extended stay, complacently re- marked that he hadn't paid for a meal while he had been in Chi- cago; but feelingly added that he supposed they'd all come back on him in London! ANOTHER denizen of the *■ world's metropolis after some weeks in Chicago went so far as to sell his overcoat and even his heavy underwear to his auditors, pointing out to their inexperience the superiority of these sturdy British articles to anything pur- chasable here. It must be admitted that these visiting lecturers probably carry back to civilization (as they un- derstand it) many a quaint anec- dote, from our shores. In the days of man's innocency — that is, be- fore the ladies learned to smoke — a distinguished English woman came to Chicago to lecture. After a luncheon given in her honor, she drew out her cigarette case and offered one of my fellow-towns- men a cigarette. He politely but firmly declined, with these now famous words: "I never smoke in the presence of ladies." Autumn Vj CLEMENCEAU, once visit - " ing Chicago, was duly in- troduced by General Dawes and deposited behind the amplifier. As the passion of oratory gradually possessed him, the speaker, like the tiger he was, crept around the cor- ner of the table and became in- audible to the balcony. It evinced its disapproval by clapping con- tinuously, until the indomitable chairman picked up the table and set it once more in front of the speaker. All was again serene un- til the lecturer forgot himself and again outflanked the instrument. Again our future vice president saved the day, and so on until the edge of the platform was reached and the speaker could no further go. Not all chairmen are so com- petent. On one occasion at Chi- cago, when I was acting as a kind of little shadow to the president, Mr. Epstein secured Professor Einstein for a series of lectures at the University. As we approached the hall, I intimated to the dean who was to introduce the speaker that Mr. Epstein would probably be present and some reference to his generosity would be in order. He accordingly addressed the crowded house in these felicitous terms : "Ladies and gentlemen: Some scientific men who are well known to the public owe this to the intrinsic worth of their re- searches; others to the notoriety the news- papers have given them. Our lecturer this afternoon is of the latter class. We are indebted to Mr. Einstein — I mean Mr. Epstein — for bringing Professor Epstein — I mean Einstein — to the University to address us today." ONE OF the most delightful ex- ^-^ periences of my secretarial life was concerned with the visit to the University of M. Jusserand, then the French ambassador at Wash- ington. It was my duty to meet him at the train, and as I mounted the platform at Englewood, I be- held the ambassador, gracefully grouped with his wife and a po- liceman before a newspaper camera. The policeman was especially joy- ful over this, for as he was heard to explain he had been in this country only a few months, and he now had a picture of himself taken with some distinguished peo- ple to send back home. As the train pulled out on its way down town all the porters, cooks and waiters could be seen hanging out of windows and vestibules wav-

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8 The Improvement Era for November, 1930 ing farewells to the ambassador. Here, thought I, is a man who understands democracy, and prac- tices it. CUCH was the ambassador's ar- ^ rival. His departure was no less interesting. It was my duty after his address to offer him the University's very substantial check. He declined it without stopping to look at it. It might have been a fortune! He said he never ac- cepted payment for lectures while he was ambassador. Not a little crestfallen, I informed the Presi- dent. He shared my gloom. I suggested that we at least purchase his tickets home. He agreed and I got them. All the way to the station, the ambassador kept thrusting upon the President the money for the tickets, which the President good naturedly thrust back upon him. But the ambas- sador got the last thrust and de- parted as gaily as he had come. As the train receded, the Presi- dent said to me, not without a sense of defeat, "Well, he made me take the money," and handed me eighty-five dollars. "But," said I in dismay, "they only cost eighty." The President laughed despairingly. "Well, what can we do?" "Let's send him the other five dollars," said I. "Very well," said the President, "Do it." I did, and received from the am- bassador a most amusing letter, closing with the statement that as he had certainly paid eighty-five dollars for his tickets and drawing room from Washington to Chi- cago, and I had gotten the same accommodations back for eighty, he could only conclude that it was farther from Washington to Chi- cago than it was from Chicago to Washington. "DUT many as are the benefits brought us by these birds of passage, they on their part return to their native shores not a little advantaged. Not only can they add to their lecture repertoire a wholly new one on "America as I saw it," or "Six Weeks Among the Americans," pointing out with unerring eye our faults and foibles, but certain intangible values will inevitably cling to them, almost without their knowledge. Thus when Mr. R. Austin Freeman calls his latest hero Mr. Pottermack and then informs you that this is the name of a certain American river, slightly altered in spelling, you at once realize that he has never en- joyed the ineffable benefits of American travel. And how unmu- sical he must find that historic watchword of ours, "All quiet along the Pottermack!" —x^^a^i*— -<* Tke Last Command By TOM MAHAN As told to Henry F. Kitkham HP HE events of the World's War were filled with many thrill- ing deeds of heroism. They will, of course, be the theme of song and story so long as the memory of that frightful conflict remains. But there were, also, countless small incidents that, in themselves, were only matters of detail, but, in the aggregate, went to the win- ning of the war. One of those forgotten episodes, I now take out of the pigeonholes of the past. It was told to me by a buddy "over there." One who made nothing of it and, yet, as a last event of the colossal strug- gle, it has dramatic possibilities. It was, in truth, no less than the final orders issued by the high command that brought the war to an end. "November _ 11, 1918. The scene is laid in what is humor- ously termed, 'Sunny France.' Our battery of 155 m. guns, were lo- cated in a little valley between two low, rolling hills thickly covered by a wild, bushy growth of vege- tation. Dotted here and there, gaunt, naked trees reared their twisted limbs skyward. The day was bright and clear in pleasing contrast to the usual deluge of rain, sleet, snow and mud. Even my buddies expanded to the cheer- ful warmth. Besides, there seemed to be something in the very air that whispered of the final drama that was presently to come. "Everybody in the army was in charge of something or other, and I was no exception to the rule. I was, in fact, in charge of the telephone central on that particular morning. My duties consisted in answering all incoming calls and in transmitting them again to the proper parties. Often the calls were of small importance but, oc- casionally, they were of utmost consequence. We had always to be alert. "The dugout we occupied was scooped out of the southern slope of the hillside. Rough boards formed the roof, the front wall, also, being composed of the same flimsy material. Moreover, this front squarely faced the German guns! No very comfortable situa- tion to say the least in view of the incessant roar of the opposing artillery that had marked the re- treat of the foe! "Seven, A. M. A lug dropped on the telephone central in front of me. The buzzer set up a lazy c^one. I picked up a plug and pushed it home. My regular day's work was begun. " 'P. C. Speath,' I called into the transmitter. 'Mitchel, headquarters,' came a voice over the wire. When I say one, it will be six minutes past seven. Ready! Four-three- two-one.' 'Yes sir,' I answered, 'Is that all?" ' 'Relay this order to your bat- tery commander and all officers. Until eleven o'clock you will fire at will with any objective. At eleven o'clock, sharp, you will cease firing. Repeat!' " 'Until eleven o'clock you will fire at will with any objective. At eleven o'clock, sharp, you will cease firing,' I repeated. " 'Correct,' snapped the voice over the wire. 'And, say, who is this talking?' The voice was a little more human. 'Operator at post of com- mand, Speath,' I answered prompt- ly, for we were not allowed to use personal names over the phone. " 'Oh well — ■' the voice drawled — 'It won't be long now, buddy. At eleven the War is Over!' 'Gee!' That was all I could stammer but there was a world of feeling in that one simple word."