The Union Polishing Metal Plating Company has been successfully operated under this method since 1902. (C. H. Quinn, Outlook, Vol. LXXIII, page 452.)
The great iron works of Evansville, Wis., are operated under this method. (G. L. McNutt, Ind., Vol. LV, page 619.)
The advantages of such a system are obvious. This method gives not only one debater, but the whole team, almost instant command of all the material that has been collected. One can find what he wants, and find it hastily; he is not obliged to spend much valuable time in hunting after needed evidence and thus neglect large portions of the speech that is being delivered. A debater should begin on the classification of rebuttal material almost as soon as he begins to read on his subject. In this way he will save all the material that he gathers, and his catalogued information will be of assistance to him in drawing his brief and in constructing his main argument as well as in making refutation at the time of the debate.
THE FIRST SPEAKER FOR THE AFFIRMATIVE. Upon the first speaker for the affirmative falls the duty of interpreting the proposition. Since the subject of analysis has already been fully discussed, but few directions need be given here. It may be well, however, to emphasize the qualities of clearness and fairness. A debate, unlike a written argument, cannot be studied and re-read time and again. For this reason, unless the proposition is explained in the very simplest language and by means of the very clearest definitions and illustrations, many people in the audience will not understand what the debate is about. Long words and high-sounding phrases have no place here. The debater must aim to reach not merely those who are familiar with the subject, but also those to whom the question is absolutely new. If, when the first speaker has finished, any attentive listener of average intelligence fails to understand both the subject of the debate and the attitude of the affirmative side, the speech has been a failure.
Then, too, the analysis of the proposition must be fair and just to both sides. A debater has no right to strain or twist the meaning of the proposition so as to gain any advantage for himself. In the first place, this practice is dishonest, and an honorable debater does not wish to win by trickery or fraud. Secondly, such an act almost always brings defeat. The fact that a debate is being held, presupposes a subject about which reasonable men may differ. If a debater interprets the proposition so that only one reasonable side exists, manifestly he must be in error, and upon the exposure of this error he is sure to lose the decision.
In debate, therefore, clearness and fairness should especially characterize the four steps that are taken in analyzing the proposition: to define terms, to explain the proposition as a whole, to discover the issues, and to make the partition.
Upon the completion of the introduction, the first debater for the affirmative proceeds to the discussion, and later, should he be the only contestant on the affirmative side, to the conclusion. But if, as is usually the case, there be several debaters on each side, he takes up only one or two main points of the proof. In handling this proof he must be sure so to correlate his work with the work of his colleagues that, in the minds of the audience, it will all hang together as a united whole. To accomplish this object, he may, as he finishes with his partition, state what points he will discuss himself, and what points will be handled by the affirmative speakers that are to succeed him; and he must, without fail, when he nears the end of his allotted time, hastily summarize the proof that he has given, and outline the proof that is to follow. In this way he may keep the intervening speeches of his opponents from entirely destroying the continuity that should exist between his speech and the speeches of his colleagues.
THE FIRST SPEAKER FOR THE NEGATIVE. It rests with the first speaker for the negative to determine whether the introduction as presented by the affirmative is satisfactory, whether the analysis of the proposition is clear, adequate, and fair. If the affirmative has erred in any respect, it is the duty of the first negative debater to supply the deficiency or make the correction; otherwise he errs equally with the affirmative. If the affirmative has failed to explain the proposition so that it is generally understood, the negative is sure to win favor with the audience by spending a few moments in elucidating the subject of controversy. If the affirmative debater has analyzed the question inadequately or unfairly, the negative debater should not begin to establish proof until he has set these preliminaries straight. In correcting an unfair analysis, it is never enough that one merely make objections or even give an introduction of his own; he must, in brief form—and often a single sentence is sufficient—show to the satisfaction of the audience that his opponent has not interpreted the proposition correctly. On the other hand, if the first speaker for the negative considers the introduction given by the affirmative perfectly fair and satisfactory, he can pass by it without comment, and begin his own argument either with refutation or with a statement of the points that the negative side will establish in attacking the proposition.
It is thus apparent that a debater who opens a negative argument must depend for the beginning of his speech rather on a thorough understanding of the subject in all its details and fundamental principles than on a speech that he has to deliver word for word. To repeat an introduction that has already been given is absurd; to fail to correct an introduction that, as a whole, is obscure or is unfair, is to merit defeat. It may be added, by way of caution, that when a debater supplies any deficiencies in the speech of his predecessor, he should do this without any appearance of "smartness" or personal antagonism. Even if the affirmative debater has been manifestly unfair, the negative speaker will do well to correct this unfairness in a friendly, though in a forceful manner.
As soon as the introduction is out of the way, the negative speaker proceeds to the discussion. Two courses are open to him: he may at once refute his predecessor's arguments, or he may proceed to take up his constructive proof, giving reason for postponing the refutation. As this matter has already been discussed, it is only necessary to say that the course he should choose depends largely upon the strength of the preceding argument. The same directions that have been given to the affirmative debater for connecting his work to his colleagues' apply equally to the negative. Summaries and outlines aid greatly in binding the arguments of a debating team into one compact mass.
THE OTHER SPEAKERS. About the only practical suggestion which can be made to the other speakers is that they adapt their constructive work to that of their colleagues, and deploy their refutation so as to hammer the principal positions of their opponents. Each debater may or may not begin his speech with refutation, but he should always begin his main argument with a terse, clear summary of what has been said on his side, and in closing he should not only summarize his own arguments, but he should also give again, in very brief form, the gist of what has been proved by his colleagues. In addition, any speaker except the last one on each side, may, if he thinks best, give an outline of the argument to follow. In making these summaries, a debater must always avoid stating them in so bald and crude a form as to make them monotonous and offensive. He ought rather to use all the ingenuity at his command in an attempt to make this repetition exceedingly forceful.
It often happens that an inexperienced debater never reaches his conclusion. While he is still in the midst of his proof, his allotment of time expires, and he is forced to sit down, leaving his speech hanging in the air. Such an experience is both awkward and disastrous; a skillful debater never allows it to happen. The peroration is the most important part of an argument, and on it the debater should lavish his greatest care. To omit it is almost the same as to have made no speech at all. As soon as the debater perceives that he has but a short time left, he should at once bring this main speech to a close, and even though he may have to omit important ideas, begin at once on his conclusion. As is pointed out in Chapter X, the conclusion consists both of a summary and an emotional appeal. What emotion shall be aroused and how it shall apply to the summarized headings can largely be determined beforehand. Some debaters go so far as to commit this conclusion to memory. This practice is not recommended except in special cases, and yet a debater should be so familiar with his peroration that he will have no difficulty in putting it into vigorous and pleasing language.
REBUTTAL SPEECHES. A rebuttal speech usually furnishes an excellent test of a debater's mastery of his subject. It shows whether or not he comprehends the fundamental principles that underly the argument. If he does not understand fundamentals, he cannot distinguish between what is worth answering and what is trivial. If he is not perfectly familiar with the arguments on both sides of the question, his refutation will be scattering; that is, he will rebut only a few of his opponent's headings, those for which, in his scanty preparation, he has discovered some answer. On the other hand, if he really understands the subject, he will deal largely with main ideas; and if his knowledge of the subject is as extensive as it should be, he will almost invariably be able to offer some opposition to every main heading used by the opposition.
When a debate is held between only two contestants, each one has to refute the whole argument of his opponent. In this case there are no complications; but when two teams are debating, the members of each must decide among themselves as to how the rebuttal shall be handled. One way is for each member to refute all he can, working independently of his colleagues. Much better results are secured, however, when a team works systematically. In the first place, a team should always resolve the opposing arguments into a hasty brief. The main points of the opposition can then be assigned for rebuttal to the various members of the team, and each debater can give thorough treatment to his assignment. In this way every point is sure to be covered, and there will be little, if any, duplication of work.
Such a course presupposes very careful preparation on the part of the debaters. It means that each member of the team must have sufficient knowledge and material at his command to oppose with credit any argument that may be advanced. In general, the assignment of headings for rebuttal may be such that each debater will refute those points of which he took an opposite view in his main speech, but as it is usually desirable to rebut arguments in the same order in which they were originally given, no member of the team can afford to shirk mastering each detail that in any way has a vital bearing upon the proposition.
THE LAST REBUTTAL SPEAKER. The work of the last speaker on each side differs somewhat from the work of his colleagues. All the speakers try to overthrow the opposing arguments, and by means of summaries keep their case as a whole before the audience. The last speaker devotes far less time to pure refutation, gives a more detailed summary, and, in addition, compares and contrasts the arguments of his side with the arguments of the opposition. This last process is called "amplifying and diminishing."
It is not always necessary to prove a main heading false in order to destroy its effectiveness. A debater may of necessity have to admit that the opposition has successfully established the points it set out to prove. In such a case, he cannot do better than to acknowledge the correctness of his opponent's proof, and then remembering that an audience awards a decision by a comparison of the relative weight of the proof of each side, amplify the importance of his own arguments, point by point, and diminish the importance of the arguments advanced by the other side.
For instance, in a debate on the question as to whether immigration should be restricted, the affirmative might maintain that unrestricted immigration brings serious political evils, and the negative might show that the policy of nonrestriction greatly increases the wealth of the country. If neither of these contentions be successfully refuted, the favor of the audience will incline towards the affirmative or the negative, as far as those two points are concerned, according as they think that political purity or economic prosperity is the more important. Plainly, it would be for the interest of the affirmative to convince the audience that the preservation of political integrity is of greater moment than any mere material gain.
In many respects the last rebuttal speeches on each side are the most conspicuous and decisive parts of a debate. If the last speech is hesitating and weak, it is liable to ruin all preceding efforts, even though they were of the highest order; if it is enthusiastic and strong, it will often cover up preceding defects, and turn defeat into victory. Because of its importance this portion of the work usually falls to the best debater on the team, and if he is wise he will give it his greatest thought and care. In this speech he should strive in every possible way to attain perfection. His delivery should be emphatic and pleasing; his ideas should be logically arranged; and his knowledge of what he has to say should be so complete that there will be no hesitation, no groping for words. Furthermore, he should introduce an element of persuasion; to reach both the minds and the hearts of his hearers is essential for the greatest success. All this has to be done in a short time, yet to be of a high rank even the shortest closing speeches must contain these characteristics.
An argument, like other kinds of composition, should possess the qualities of style known as Clearness, Force, and Elegance, and should in all respects observe the principles of Unity, Selection, Coherence, Proportion, Emphasis, and Variety. Since the student from his study of Rhetoric is already familiar with these matters, it would be superfluous to dwell upon them in this book. A good written argument, however, does not always make a good debate; limited time for speaking, lack of opportunity for the audience to grasp ideas and to reflect upon them, the presence of strong opposing arguments that must be met and overthrown with still stronger arguments,—these conditions render the heightening of certain characteristics indispensable in a debate.
Above all else the successful debater is forceful. He uses every possible device for driving home his arguments. He bends every effort toward making his ideas so plain and so emphatic that the audience will understand them andrememberthem. Realizing that the audience cannot, like the reader of a written article, peruse the argument a second time, he uses words and expressions that cause his thoughts to stick fast wherever they fall.
STATISTICS. Statistics improperly used are dry and uninteresting; they often spoil an otherwise forceful and persuasive debate. The trouble often lies, strange to say, in the accuracy with which the figures are given. A brain that is already doing its utmost to accept almost instantaneously a multitude of facts and comprehend their significance, or a brain that is somewhat sluggish and lazy, refuses to be burdened with uninteresting and unimportant details. For this reason, when a debater speaks of 10,564,792 people, the brain becomes wearied with the numbers and in disgust is apt to turn away from the whole matter. On the other hand, the round sum 10,000,000 not only does not burden the brain, but also, under ordinary conditions, gives in a rather forceful manner the information it was intended to convey. "About five hundred" presents a much more vivid picture than "four hundred and eighty-six" or "five hundred and eighteen"; "fifteen per cent." is stronger than "fifteen and one-tenth per cent."; the expression "eighty years" seems to indicate a longer period of time than "eighty-two years, seven months, and twenty-nine days."
If one is to quote statistics, he should always, unless the circumstances be very unusual, use round numbers. Figures themselves, however, are often less emphatic than other methods of expression. The ordinary mind can not grasp the significance of large numbers. That the state of Texas contains over a quarter of a million of square miles means little to the average person; he neither remembers the exact area of other states nor can he realize what an immense territory these figures stand for. The following quotation gives the area of Texas in much more vivid and forceful language:—
If you take Texas by the upper corner and swing it on that as a pivot, you will lop off the lower end of California, cut through Idaho, overlap South Dakota, touch Michigan, bisect Ohio, reach West Virginia, cut through North Carolina and South Carolina, lop off all the western side of Florida, and blanket the greater part of the Gulf of Mexico.
To say that the American farmer produced in 1907 a crop worth, at the farm, seven and one-half billions of dollars, conveys little idea of the magnitude of the harvest. A current magazine has couched the same estimate in less exact but in far more emphatic language:—
Suppose that all of last year's corn had been shipped to Europe; it would have required over four thousand express steamers of 18,000 tons register to deliver it. Suppose that the year's wheat had all been sent to save the Far East from a great famine: the largest fleet in the world, with its four hundred vessels of all sizes, would have required fifteen round trips to move it. Take tobacco,—such a minor crop that most people never think of it in connection with farming:— if last year's tobacco crop had been made into cigars, the supply would have lasted 153,000 men for fifty years, each man smoking ten cigars a day.
The officials of the forestry service, in speaking of the great devastation caused by forest fires, make the startling assertion that a new navy of first-class battle-ships could be built for the sum lost during a few weeks in the fires that raged from the pines of Maine to the redwoods of California.
Figures used in this way are most effective, and yet probably nothing in argumentation is more tedious than too many of these descriptions of statistics coming close together. If numbers absolutely have to be indicated a great many times, even figures are likely to be less tiresome.
CONCRETENESS. General statements and abstract principles invariably weary an audience. Theories and generalities are usually too intangible to make much impression. Specific instances and concrete cases, however, are usually interesting. A vivid picture of real persons, things, and events is necessary to arouse the attention of an audience and cause them both to understand the argument and to give it their consideration. The slogan of a recent political campaign was not, "Improved economic conditions for the laboring man"; it was, "The full dinner pail." The political orator who is urging the necessity for a larger navy on the ground that war is imminent does not speak of possible antagonists in such general terms asforeign powers; he specifies Germany, Japan, and the other nations that he fears. The preacher who would really awaken the conscience of his church does not confine himself to such terms asoriginal sinandweaknesses of the flesh; he talks oflying,stealing, andswearing.
Compare the effectiveness of the following examples:—
People of the same race are more loyal to each other than to foreigners.
Blood is thicker than water.
Western farmers are demanding political recognition.
"No, I am not going to vote a straight ticket this year. If I do, my candidate must be in favor of some things I want." That was the dictum of Franklin Taylor, Farmer, on Rural Route No. 12, ten miles from a western town. He is a type of thousands of other farmers in the West.
Business streets that were once commodious and impressive are now smoky and filthy.
Business streets that ten years after the great fire promised to be almost grant in the width and perspective are now mere smoky tunnels under the filth-dripping gridirons of the elevated railways.
The West is becoming more densely populated.
The center of population, now in Indiana, is traveling straight toward the middle point of Illinois. The center of manufacturing has reached only eastern Ohio, but is marching in a bee-line for Chicago.
In the following quotation Mr. Crisp, laying aside for the moment abstractions and generalities, and bringing his case down to a specific instance, gives a concrete illustration of how the protective tariff affects a single individual:
Will you tell how this protective tariff benefits our agricultural producers? I can show you—I think I can demonstrate clearly—how the tariff hurts them; and I defy any of you to show wherein they are benefited by a protective tariff.
Suppose a farmer in Minnesota has 5,000 bushels of wheat and a farmer in Georgia has 100 bales of cotton. That wheat at eighty cents a bushel is worth $4,000, and that cotton at eight cents a pound is worth $4,000. Let those producers ship their staples abroad. The Minnesota wheat-grower ships his wheat to Liverpool; whether he ships it there or not, that is where the price of his wheat is fixed. The Georgia cotton-raiser ships his cotton to Liverpool; whether he ships it there or not, that is where the price of his cotton is fixed. The wheat and the cotton are sold in that free trade market. The wheat is sold for $4,000; the cotton brings the same amount. The Minnesota farmer invests the $4,000 he has received for his wheat in clothing, crockery, iron, steel, dress goods, clothing,—whatever he may need for his family in Minnesota. The Georgia cotton-raiser invests the proceeds of his cotton in like kind of goods.
Each of those men ships his goods to this country and they reach the port of New York. When either undertakes to unload them he is met by the collector of customs, who says, "Let me see your invoice." The invoice is exhibited, and it shows $4,000 worth of goods. Those goods represent in the one case 5,000 bushels of wheat, in the other case 100 bales of cotton. The collector at the port says to either of these gentlemen—the man who raises the wheat in Minnesota or him who raises the cotton in Georgia, "You cannot bring into this market those goods for which you have exchanged your products unless you pay to the United States a tariff by the McKinley law—a tax of $2,000."
FIGURES OF SPEECH. The use of figurative language is also an aid to clearness and to force. Simile, metaphor, personification, antithesis, balance, climax, rhetorical question, and repetition are all effective aids in the presentation of argument. The speeches of great orators are replete with expressions of this sort. Burke, in hisSpeech on Conciliation, says, "Despotism itself is obliged to truck and huckster"; "The public," he said, "would not have patience to see us play the game out with our adversaries; we must produce our hand"; "Men may lose little in property by the act which takes away all their freedom. When a man is robbed of a trifle on the highway, it is not the twopence lost that constitutes the capital outrage." In speaking of certain provisions of the Constitution, Webster says that they are the "keystone of the arch." The following paragraph is taken from hisReply to Hayne:—
And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives in the strength of its manhood and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it; if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it; if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that Union by which alone its existence is made sure; it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked; it will stretch forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gather round it; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin.
The Outlook, in a recent issue, first states a vital question in literal and then, to drive home the meaning of the problem, in figurative language:—
Is the Constitution of the United States a series of inflexible rules which can be changed only by the methods which those rules themselves prescribe, or is it the expression of certain political principles by which a living and growing Nation has resolved to guide itself in its life and growth? Is it an anchor which fastens the ship of state in one place, or a rudder to guide it on its voyage?
Sometimes figures of speech are used to such excess or in such incongruous combinations that they detract from the effectiveness of the debate in which they occur rather than add to it. The distance from a forceful figure to an absurd figure is so short that a debater has to be on his guard against using expressions that will impress his audience as ridiculous or even funny. A mixture of highly figurative language with literal language and commonplace ideas, and a mixture of several figures are especially to be guarded against. As an example of the extent to which figures may be mixed the following will serve:—
"I'm up a tree," admitted the bolting Senator, "but my back is to the wall and I'll die in the last ditch, going down with flags flying, and from the mountain top of Democracy, hurling defiance at the foe, soar on the wings of triumph, regardless of the party lash that barks at my heels."
To be a successful debater one must understand how to talk and how to act in the presence of an audience. Uncouthness in appearance and awkwardness in speech have often brought defeat. Moreover, it is not enough that a debater refrain from offending his audience; his bearing and his voice should be of positive assistance to him both in pleasing them and in interpreting to them the ideas that he wishes to convey. First of all, a good delivery is one that assists in making the argument clear. Its next most important function is to make the argument forceful. A speaker should never rest content with being able to present his argument merely with clearness; he should strive to be interesting and impressive also. These qualities depend in no small measure upon the way a speech is delivered. The best story or the best argument will fall flat unless it is full of the fire of enthusiasm, unless the personality of the speaker vivifies it and makes it a living reality. Unfortunately, this intangible quality in a speaker, often called "personality" or "magnetism," cannot, to any great extent, be taught. In the main, one must seek this and develop it for himself. A text-book can point out what constitutes good form, what is pleasing and impressive to the eye and to the ear, and, in a word, what make up the externals of a good delivery; but beyond these mechanical directions it cannot go. A student should observe the following fundamental directions as his first step toward becoming a successful speaker. Afterwards, he should cultivate earnestness, enthusiasm, perception, a sense of humor, and all other such qualities as go to make up a really great speaker.
POSITION. The best position for a debater to take on the stage is in the centre well toward the front. He should take the centre because in that position he can best see the entire audience, and the entire audience can best see him. He should stand near the front edge of the platform for several reasons: first, he can make himself more easily understood; his voice need not be so loud in order to be heard distinctly in every part of the hall. This is no small advantage for one who is not gifted with unusual powers of speech. In the next place, if a debater stands close to his audience, he can adopt a more conversational style of delivery. He can establish a direct personal connection between himself and his hearers and talk to them as man to man. If the hall is not too large, he need scarcely raise his voice from its accustomed tone; he can look his audience in the eye, receiving the stimulus of whatever interest they express; and at the same time he can let them see in his features the earnestness and sincerity that he feels. To stand near the back of the stage is undoubtedly easier for one who is diffident or inexperienced; perhaps he will then be able partially to forget where he is and to imagine that he is alone; but such an attitude both severs all personal connection between speaker and hearer, and shows that the debater does not trust himself, that he has no great belief in his subject, and that he fears his audience. An impression of this sort is a great handicap even to the strongest case. If one would inspire confidence, he must appear confident; if one would make friends, he must be friendly, avoiding even a suggestion of aloofness. To accomplish these purposes as far as is possible byaction,a debater should come close to his audience, having every appearance of being glad that he is to speak and confident in the strength of the side that he is to uphold.
The next thing for a speaker to learn is how to stand. He should not take a natural posture, as some writers say, unless that posture is one of strength and, to some degree, of grace. A student without training will usually stand with his head protruding forward, his shoulders drooping, his body twisted, and his feet far apart, with all his weight on one leg. Such an attitude is enough to condemn one even before he begins to speak. A slipshod appearance suggests slipshod thinking and reasoning. A speaker should always stand erect, with his head back, chin in, shoulders rolled back and down; either the feet should be near together with the weight of the body on both, or one foot should be slightly in advance of the other with the weight of the body entirely on the rear foot. In the latter case, the leg on which the body rests must form a straight line with the body, there being no unsightly bulging at the hip; and the leg on which the body does not rest must be slightly bent at the knee. This posture is not difficult to attain if one will practise it frequently, endeavoring in his everyday life to walk and stand in a soldierly manner. On the other hand, erectness should not be carried to such an extreme as to become stiffness. A debater's object is to be forceful and pleasing. In striving for this end, he should always remember that he can very easily err in either of two directions.
A debater should allow his hands, for the most part, to hang naturally at his sides. There may be a great temptation for him to put them in his pockets, but he should resist this for two reasons: such a procedure is not considered good form, and his hands are less available for instant use in the making of gestures. If one is delivering a lengthy argument, there is no particular harm in putting one hand behind the back for a short time, or even in front of the body along the waist line, provided this can be done in an easy, natural manner; but in the case of a short speech, one will do well to keep his hands at his sides. They must hang naturally in order not to attract attention, being neither closed tightly nor held rigidly open. If one will follow these directions, his hands and arms may feel awkward, but they will not appear so.
Another important principle in the matter of position requires that a debater shall keep his eyes fixed on his audience. He must not look at the floor, at the ceiling, or at the walls. He must look at the people he would convince. Only in this way can he hope to hold their attention. Only in this way can he win their confidence and reach their feelings. To look into space means to debate into space.
In the next place, a speaker must beware of falling into ludicrous and disgusting habits of deportment. Nervousness will often cause one in the presence of an audience to keep making an unsightly gesture, a peculiar twitch or step that will absolutely ruin his whole speech. Some speakers have been known to change their weight from one foot to the other as often as twenty or thirty times a minute. Other speakers have adopted a peculiar jerk of the head or a constant shrugging of the shoulders that is most disagreeable to see. Still others keep constantly opening and shutting their hands. For years one speaker of some small prominence spent the greater part of his time while on the platform in tugging at his coat, apparently in an effort to make it fit better around the collar. All such actions as these are to be carefully guarded against.
A debater, however, is not expected to stand perfectly still: he should use considerable interpretative and emphatic action. To begin with, he ought not to stand all the time in exactly the same spot. Monotony of position is to be avoided as well as monotony of action or of voice. He will rest himself and his audience if he will occasionally move about, taking two or three steps at a time. In doing this he must never go backward; he must never retreat. If, for any reason, he began his speech while standing near the rear or the centre of the stage, he should move forward; if he cannot go forward, he may move back and forth near the edge of the platform. The best time for one to change his position is at the conclusion of a paragraph. A paragraph division, it will be remembered, indicates a change in thought. If a debater, therefore, makes a longer pause than usual at this point, and in addition alters his position slightly, he helps interpret his argument. He does for the hearer exactly what indentation does for the reader.
GESTURES. So much has been said and written about gestures that a student is often puzzled to know whose advice to follow and what to do. Some writers say that no gestures at all are desirable; others deem them necessary, but declare that they should never be made unless they are spontaneous and natural. In the light of such conflicting advice, what will determine the proper course for a student to follow? The answer to this question lies in a consideration of the ultimate object of a course in debating. If it is to give students some facility in expressing their thoughts before an audience, if it is to train students for practical work in business and professional life, then those men who are recognized as the polished and powerful speakers of the day should be taken as models. Most of these, it will be found, use gestures. There is but one reasonable course, then, for the student to follow: he should make gestures. They may be crude and awkward at first, but only by practice can he ever hope to improve them.
The best method of procedure, undoubtedly, is for the beginner to become familiar with two or three of the most common gestures, learning how to make them and just what they signify. He should then use them. They may seem mechanical and ungainly at first, but constant practice both in private and before a class will soon enable him to make them with considerable emphasis and ease. From this point on, the road is clear. The knowledge that he can use his hands to good advantage, even in a limited way, will soon cause him to make gestures spontaneously. Nor will he be limited to the few with which he started. In the midst of an explanation and in the heat of an impassioned plea, he will find himself using gestures that he had not thought of before. The awkward and premeditated gesture with which he began will have become forceful and spontaneous.
The gestures that a student should first learn to use must be illustrated to him by his instructor. To see a gesture made several times gives one a better idea of how to make it and of what it means than could a dozen pages in a text-book. The choice of gestures, too, may rest with the instructor. It makes no particular difference with what ones a debater begins, provided that they are simple in execution and are such as he will wish to use in practically every debate into which he enters. Ordinarily, the best ones for a beginner to practice on are those indicating emphasis. If he wishes for a wider field, he might also try to use gestures indicating magnitude and contrast. When he has finished with these, he should hesitate before deliberately introducing many others. A debate is not a dramatic production, and it should in no wise savor of melodrama.
VOICE. Correct position and forceful gestures are very important, but upon no one thing does the success of a debater, aside from his argument, depend so much as upon his voice. One may move his audience in spite of an awkward posture and in the absence of all intelligent gestures, but unless his voice meets certain requirements, his case is almost hopeless. Above all else a speaker's voice must be distinct.
Distinctness depends upon several things. First, the voice must be loud enough to be heard without difficulty in every part of the room. To produce this result, one should speak especially to those in the rear, carefully watching to see whether he holds their attention; at the same time he must be careful not to shout in a manner unpleasant to those sitting nearer him. The stress laid by public speakers upon the matter of loudness is well illustrated by a story told of one of the foremost orators of the day. It is said that he invariably stations some one in the back of the audience to signal to him when his voice is either too low or unnecessarily loud.
In the next place, distinctness depends upon enunciation. The debater who drops off final syllables, slurs consonants, runs words together, or talks without using his lips and without opening his mouth is hard to understand. It often requires considerable conscious effort to pronounce each syllable in a word distinctly, but the resulting clearness is worth a strenuous attempt. One great cause of poor enunciation is too rapid talking. A fairly slow delivery is preferable not only because the words can be more easily understood, but also because it gives a debater the appearance of being more careful and accurate in his reasoning. Great rapidity in speech may be due to nervousness or inexperience; whatever its cause, it is usually fatal to distinctness.
A pleasing tone of voice is not of so great moment as distinctness of utterance, yet its cultivation is by no means to be neglected. Harsh, rasping sounds and nasal twangs are disagreeable to hear, and no speaker can afford to offend his audience in this way. An unpleasant voice may be the result of some physical defect; more often it is caused by sheer carelessness. In most cases a little practice will produce a wonderful change. A very common breach of elegance in speaking is the habit of drawling out anersound between words. The constant repetition of this is exceedingly annoying. It is usually caused by an attempt to fill in a gap while the speaker is groping about for the next word. The best way to correct this blunder is to be so familiar with what one is going to say that there will be no gap to fill in; but in case one does have to hunt for words, it is a thousand times preferable to leave the gap unfilled. Each word should stand out by itself, even though there is a pause of many seconds. To offend the ears of an audience with a crude tone of voice or with meaningless sounds is a bad violation of propriety.
The first step to be taken in the cultivation of a distinct and pleasing voice is to acquire the habit of standing correctly. Under the subject of position it was stated that the body should be kept erect, the head thrown back, and the shoulders rolled back and down. This posture is the best not only because it is the most graceful but because it gives the speaker the greatest command of his vocal organs. Stooping shoulders and a bowed trunk contract the lungs and diminish the supply of breath, and a bent neck renders the cords of the neck less controllable. After taking the proper position, one should next endeavor to breathe as deeply as he can. The louder he has to speak, the deeper should be his breathing. Remembering that he does not wish to talk fast, he will do well to fill his lungs at the close of each sentence, always inhaling, in order not to make an unpleasant gasping noise, through the nose. While speaking, he should control his supply of breath not by contracting the chest but by elevating the diaphragm. This procedure will give his voice a richness and a resonance that it otherwise could not have. Breathing merely from the top of the lungs means squeakiness of tone and poor control. One who breathes incorrectly will find it necessary to shout to make himself heard at a distance; one who breathes correctly can usually be heard under the same conditions by merely talking. The superiority of the round, deep tone over the shout is too obvious to need comment. In the next place, a speaker must think about this voice. Thought and study are as essential in the training of a voice as in the mastery of any art. A natural voice is not usually pleasing; it becomes so only through cultivation. Much of this training can be done by the speaker unaided. Few people are so insensible to qualities of sound that they cannot detect harshness and impurities even in their own utterance, provided that they will give the matter their attention. It is not enough, however, for one to watch his voice only while he is debating or while he is repeating his arguments in preparation for a debate; he must carry constant watchfulness even into his daily conversation. The services of a good instructor are invaluable, but at best they can be only auxiliary. All improvement must come through the efforts of the speaker himself.
ATTITUDE TOWARD OPPONENTS. If one will bear in mind that the fundamental purpose of argument—whether written or spoken—is to present truth in such a way as to influence belief, he will at once understand that a debater should always maintain toward his opponents the attitude of one who is trying to change another's belief, the attitude of friendship, fairness, and respect. Such a point of view precludes the use of satire, invective, or harsh epithets. These never carry conviction; in fact, they invariably destroy the effect that an otherwise good argument might produce. Ridicule and bluster may please those who already agree with the speaker, but with these people he should be little concerned; a debater worthy of the name seeks to change the opinions of those who disagree with him. For this reason he is diplomatic, courteous, and urbane.
A debater should, moreover, keep to this same attitude even though his opponent introduce objectionable personalities. One will find it for his own best interest to do so. Good humor makes a far better impression than anger; it suggests strength and superiority, while anger, as everyone knows, is often the result of chagrin, and is used to cover up weaknesses. Besides, an audience always sympathizes with the man who is first attacked. All this does not mean that a debater should calmly submit to unfairness and vilification. On the contrary, he should defend himself spiritedly; but he should not meet abuse with abuse. To do so would be to throw away an invaluable opportunity. He should remain dignified, self-controlled, and good-humored; then by treating his opponent as one who has inadvertently fallen into error, and by pointing out the mistakes, the unfairness, and the way in which the real question has been ignored, he can gain an inestimable advantage.
The following quotations show what attitude a debater should maintain toward his opponents:—
As I do not precisely agree in opinion with any gentleman who has spoken, I shall take the liberty of detaining the committee for a few moments while I offer to their attention some observations. I am highly gratified with the temper and ability with which the discussion has hitherto been conducted. It is honorable to the House, and, I trust, will continue to be manifested on many future occasions. (Henry Clay.)
Mr. President, I had occasion a few days ago to expose the utter groundlessness of the personal charges made by the Senator from Illinois against myself and the other signers of the Independent Democratic Appeal. I now move to strike from this bill a statement which I will to-day demonstrate to be without any foundation in fact or history. I intend afterwards to move to strike out the whole clause annulling the Missouri prohibition.
I enter into this debate, Mr. President, in no spirit of personal unkindness. The issue is too grave and too momentous for the indulgence of such feelings. I see the great question before me, and that question only. (Salmon P. Chase.)
Compare the attitude of Mr. Naylor in the following quotation with the attitude of Mr. Lincoln in his debates with Senator Douglas. It is needless to point out which must have had the better effect upon the audience.
The gentleman has misconceived the spirit and tendency of Northern institutions. He is ignorant of Northern character. He has forgotten the history of his country. Preach insurrection to the Northern laborers! Preach insurrection tome! Who are the Northern laborers? The history of your country is their history. (Charles Naylor.)
My Fellow-Citizens: When a man hears himself somewhat misrepresented, it provokes him—at least, I find it so with myself; but when misrepresentation becomes very gross and palpable, it is more apt to amuse him. The first thing I see fit to notice is the fact that Judge Douglas alleges, after running through the history of the old Democratic and the old Whig parties, that Judge Trumbull and myself made an arrangement in 1854 by which I was to have the place of General Shields in the United States Senate, and Judge Trumbull was to have the place of Judge Douglas. Now all I have to say upon that subject is that I think no man—not even Judge Douglas—can prove it, because it is not true. I have no doubt he is "conscientious" in saying it. As to those resolutions that he took such a length of time to read, as being the platform of the Republican party in 1854, I say I never had anything to do with them, and I think Trumbull never had. (Abraham Lincoln in the Ottawa Joint Debate.)
Judge Douglas has told me that he heard my speeches north and my speeches south—that he heard me at Ottawa and at Freeport in the north, and recently at Jonesboro in the south, and that there was a very different cast of sentiment in the speeches made at the different points. I will not charge upon Judge Douglas that he willfully misrepresents me, but I call upon every fair-minded man to take those speeches and read them, and I dare him to point out any difference between my speeches north and south. (Lincoln in the Charleston Joint Debate.)
Three judges usually award the decision in a debating contest. Their sole duty is to determine which side had the better of the argument. Sometimes the method that they shall follow in arriving at a decision is marked out for them; they are given printed slips indicating the relative importance of evidence, reasoning, delivery, and the other points that must be considered. Most commonly, however, each judge is instructed to decide for himself what constitutes excellence in debate. According to the rules governing any particular debate, the judges may cast their ballots with or without previous consultation with each other.
The following outline gives in condensed form the main points that a judge should consider. It will be of service not only to the judges of a debate but to the contestants, as it gives a comprehensive view of just what is expected of a debater.
I. Which side has the better analysis?
II. Which side has the stronger proof?
A. Consider the preponderance of the evidence.
B. Consider the quality of the evidence.
C. Consider the skill used in reasoning.
III. Which side offers the better refutation?
A. See which side has the more main points left standing after the refutation has been given.
IV. Which side has the better delivery?
A. Consider general bearing, voice, and language.
Most arguments have a more or less formal ending. Both writers and speakers, when seeking to influence the beliefs and acts of others, have usually deemed it advisable, upon completing their proof, to add a few summarizing words and to make a final appeal to the emotions. This part of the argument that comes at the close and that contains no new proof is called theconclusion, or theperoration. In spoken argument, occasionally, the conclusion is wholly ignored. If at any time, regardless of the point he may have reached, an arguer clearly perceives that he has won his case, he is wise to stop immediately and avoid the danger of adding anything that might possibly detract from his success. Such an experience may frequently happen to a salesman, a preacher, a lawyer. Arguments, however, that are written or that are delivered before large audiences cannot be curtailed in this way. Under such conditions the arguer is unable to tell when he has won his case: he must use all his proof and make it emphatic in every way possible. Therefore the student who is arguing for the sake of practice will do well to disregard exceptions and to close all his arguments, both written and spoken, with a peroration.
The same two elements—conviction and persuasion—that make up the introduction and the discussion are ordinarily found also in the conclusion. The general principles that govern the proportionate amount of each to be used in the first two divisions of an argument apply equally to the third division. In every case the relative amount of space to be devoted to conviction and to persuasion depends upon the nature of the subject and the attitude of the audience. In some instances a conclusion should consist wholly of conviction; in other instances persuasion should predominate; most commonly there should be a judicious combination of both.
In concluding an argument before the United States Supreme Court on the question of whether or not a certain law passed in New York was repugnant to the Constitution or consistent with it, Webster spoke as follows:—
To recapitulate what has been said, we maintain, first, that the Constitution, by its grants to Congress and its prohibitions on the States, has sought to establish one uniform standard of value, or medium of payment. Second, that, by like means, it has endeavored to provide for one uniform mode of discharging debts when they are to be discharged without payment. Third, that these objects are connected, and that the first loses much of its importance, if the last, also, be not accomplished. Fourth, that, reading the grant to Congress, and the prohibition on the States together, the inference is strong that the Constitution intended to confer exclusive power to pass bankrupt laws on Congress. Fifth, that the prohibition in the tenth section reaches to all contracts, existing or future, in the same way that the other prohibition in the same section extends to all debts existing or future. Sixth, that, upon any other construction, one great political object of the Constitution will fail of its accomplishment. [Footnote: The Case of Ogden and Saunders. Webster's Great Speeches, page 188. Little, Brown & Co.]
In this conclusion, it will be noticed, there is no persuasion. Apparently the subject was of such a nature that only clear and logical reasoning was required. An appeal to the emotions would undoubtedly have been out of place. In direct contrast to the preceding method of summarizing a speech a good example of a persuasive conclusion may be found inThe Dartmouth College Case, which Webster argued before this same tribunal, and which also involved the constitutionality of a State law. In this peroration Webster's emotional appeal was so strong that, it is said, there was not a dry eye in the court room.
In writing as well as in speaking one must allow common sense to decide what shall be the nature of his peroration. The following is a typical example of a conclusion into which persuasion cannot well enter. It is taken from the close of a chapter, selected at random, in Darwin'sStructure and Distribution of Coral Reefs.
It has, I think, been shown in this chapter, that subsidence explains both the normal structure and the less regular forms of those two great classes of reefs which have justly excited the astonishment of all the naturalists who have sailed through the Pacific and Indian oceans. The necessity, also, that a foundation should have existed at the proper depth for the growth of the corals over certain large areas, almost compels us to accept this theory. But further to test its truth a crowd of questions may be asked…. These several questions will be considered in the following chapter.
A type of conclusion far more common and usually far more effective is one that not only refers to the preceding arguments but also contains considerable persuasion. The peroration marks the final opportunity for the arguer to move his audience. Here he should make his greatest effort. Since belief and action ordinarily depend upon both the intellect and the will, the arguer who would attain success must appeal to both. Merely to call to mind the proof that he has advanced is seldom enough: he must arouse the emotions. The peroration of an argument is like the finish of a race or the last charge in a battle. In the conclusion the arguer should use his greatest skill, his strongest eloquence. Here are found the most inspiring passages in the masterpieces of oratory.
Some of the various ways for reaching the emotions have been pointed out in the chapter dealing with persuasion in the introduction. These same suggestions apply equally well to persuasion in the conclusion. The best advice that can be given, however, is for one to use his common sense. He must consider his subject, his audience, his ability, and his own interest in the case—all the circumstances in connection with his argument—and then depend, not upon some set formula, but upon his judgment to tell him in what way he can best be persuasive. The following illustrations will give some idea of how successful writers and speakers have concluded their arguments with persuasion. Notice the patriotic appeal in the first quotation:—
Whether we have or have not degenerated compared with (say) fifty or a hundred years ago may be a question difficult to settle, but it is quite clear that we are pitifully, disastrously below the normal standard of manhood and womanhood which a great nation should set itself.
Adequate nourishment for our children, immunity from exhausting and mechanical employments at the most critical period of adolescence, an extension of educational influences—can there be any objects of expenditures more likely than these to repay themselves a thousandfold in the improved vigor and intelligence which form the only sure basis of a nation's greatness? [Footnote: Frances E. Warwick, Fortnightly Review, Vol. LXXIX, p. 515.]
In the following the speaker points out the awful responsibility resting upon the jury and exhorts them to render justice:—
Let me, therefore, remind you, that though the day may soon come when our ashes shall be scattered before the winds of heaven, the memory of what you do cannot die. It will carry down to your posterity your honor or your shame. In the presence, and in the name of that everliving God, I do therefore conjure you to reflect that you have your characters, your consciences, that you have also the character, perhaps the ultimate destiny, of your country in your hands. In that awful name I do conjure you to have mercy upon your country and upon yourselves, and so to judge now as you will hereafter be judged; and I do now submit the fate of my client, and of that country which we have yet in common to your disposal. [Footnote: John Philpot Curran, On the Liberty of the Press.]
In the following extract from the conclusion of Webster's plea inThe Dartmouth College Caseconsider how he showed the magnitude of the question that was at issue:—
The case before the court is not of ordinary importance, nor of everyday occurrence. It affects not this college only, but every college, and all the literary institutions of the country. They have flourished hitherto, and have become in a high degree respectable and useful to the community. They have all a common principle of existence, the inviolability of their charters. It will be a dangerous, a most dangerous experiment, to hold these institutions subject to the rise and fall of popular parties, and the fluctuation of political opinions. If the franchise may at any time be taken away, or impaired, the property also may be taken away, or impaired, or its use perverted. Benefactors will have no certainty of effecting the object of their bounty; and learned men will be deterred from devoting themselves to the service of such institutions, from the precarious title of their offices. Colleges and halls will be deserted by all better spirits, and become a theatre for the contentions of politics. Party and faction will be cherished in the places consecrated to piety and learning. These consequences are neither remote nor possible only. They are certain and immediate. [Footnote: Webster's Great Speeches, p. 23.]
As a rule, most of the criticisms that can be made of any conclusion pertain to matters of taste and judgment. A writer or speaker may have made too detailed or too brief a summary; he may have erred in choosing the best method of persuasion; he may have injured his argument in almost countless other ways. In these matters a text-book can give only general and rather vague instruction. Each argument must be suited to the particular case in hand. There are several common errors in students' work, however, that should always be avoided and that can definitely be pointed out.
1.An argument should not have an abrupt and jerky ending. It is not uncommon especially in class room debate, to hear a student at the close of his discussion say, "This is my proof; I leave the decision to the judges"; or "Thus you see I have established my proposition." Such an ending can in no way be called a conclusion or a peroration.
2.A conclusion should contain no new proof. Violations of this principle brand an arguer as careless, and greatly weaken his argument. Proof is most convincing when arranged in its proper place and in its logical order. Furthermore, the purpose of the conclusion is to review the points that have already been established. If the arguer forgets this fact and mixes proof with summary, the audience is liable to become badly confused and not know what has been established and what has not.
3.A conclusion should not refer to a point that has not already been established. A careless writer or debater will sometimes state that he has proved an argument which he has not previously touched upon. Such a procedure smacks of trickery or ignorance, and is sure to be disastrous. Not only will the audience throw out that particular point, but they will be highly prejudiced against both the arguer and his argument. It is permissible for one to maintain that he has proved a point even though the proof be somewhat inadequate, but for one to refer in his conclusion to a point that he then mentions for the first time is unpardonable.
4.A conclusion must reaffirm the proposition exactly as stated at the beginning. Sometimes a writer, discovering at the close of his argument that he has not stuck to his subject but has proved something different, or at best has proved only a part of his subject, states as his decision a totally different proposition from that with which he started. To illustrate, a student once attempted to argue on the affirmative side of the proposition, "The United States should discontinue its protective tariff policy"; but he gave as his concluding sentence, "These facts, then, prove to you that our present tariff duties are too high." This last sentence embodied the real proposition which he had discussed, and if he had taken as his subject, "Our present tariff duties are too high," his argument would have been successful. As it was, his failure to support the proposition with which he started rendered his whole effort worthless.
A conclusion that is weaker than the proposition is commonly called a "qualifying conclusion." When one has fallen into this error there are two possible ways of removing it: one is to change the whole argument so that the conclusion will affirm the truth or falsity of the proposition; the other is to change the proposition. In a debate, of course, or whenever a subject is assigned, the latter method cannot be followed.
As a final example of what a good peroration should be, consider the following conclusion of Webster's speech, delivered in the United States Senate, onThe Presidential Veto of the United States Bank Bill. Notice the skillful interweaving of conviction and persuasion, and remember in connection with the principle of proportion that this is the conclusion of a speech containing about 14,000 words.
"Mr. President, we have arrived at a new epoch. We are entering on experiments, with the government and the Constitution of the country, hitherto untried, and of fearful and appalling aspect. This message calls us to the contemplation of a future which little resembles the past. Its principles are at war with all that public opinion has sustained, and all which the experience of the government has sanctioned. It denies first principles; it contradicts truths, hitherto received as indisputable. It denies to the judiciary the interpretation of law, and claims to divide with Congress the power of originating statutes. It extends the grasp of executive pretension over every power of the government. But this is not all. It presents the chief magistrate of the Union in the attitude of arguing away the powers of that government over which he has been chosen to preside; and adopting for this purpose modes of reasoning which, even under the influence of all proper feeling towards high official station, it is difficult to regard as respectable. It appeals to every prejudice which may betray men into a mistaken view of their own interests, and to every passion which may lead them to disobey the impulses of their understanding. It urges all the specious topics of State rights and national encroachment against that which a great majority of the States have affirmed to be rightful, and in which all of them have acquiesced. It sows, in an unsparing manner, the seeds of jealousy and ill-will against that government of which its author is the official head. It raises a cry, that liberty is in danger, at the very moment when it puts forth claims to powers heretofore unknown and unheard of. It affects alarm for the public freedom, when nothing endangers that freedom so much as its own unparalleled pretences. This, even, is not all. It manifestly seeks to inflame the poor against the rich; it wantonly attacks whole classes of the people, for the purpose of turning against them the prejudices and the resentment of other classes. It is a state paper which finds no topic too exciting for its use, no passion to inflammable for its address and its solicitation.
"Such is this message. It remains now for the people of the United States to choose between the principles here avowed and their government. These cannot subsist together. The one or the other must be rejected. If the sentiments of the message shall receive general approbation, the Constitution will have perished even earlier than the moment which its enemies originally allowed for the termination of its existence. It will not have survived to its fiftieth year." [Footnote: Webster's Great Speeches, page 338.]