Our emotions do not rise, however, anymore surely in the case of our veneration for the basal principles of religion and government than in that of more personal emotions. The appeal to the Constitution is worn somewhat threadbare by the politicians who call on it at every election, small or great, as is the appeal to the principles of the Pilgrim Fathers. It takes eloquence now to rouse our feelings about these principles. If you have a case important enough to justify appeal to such great principles and the skill in language to give your appeal vitality, you may really arouse your readers. But, on the whole, it is sound advice to say, Wait a few years before you call on them.
The second mode of appeal to the feelings of your audience, that through concrete and figurative language, is more within the reach of advocates who are still of college age. This is particularly true of the use of concrete language. It is a matter of common knowledge that men do not rouse themselves over abstract principles; they will grant their assent, often without really knowing what is implied by the general principle, and go away yawning. On the other hand, the man who talks about the real and actual things which you know is likely to keep your attention. This goes back to the truth that our emotions and feelings are primarily the reaction to the concrete things that happen to us. The spontaneous whistling and humming of tunes that indicate a cheerful heart rise naturally as a response to the sunlight in spring; the fear at the terror that flies in a nightmare is the instinctive and physical reaction to indigestion; we sorrow over the loss of our own friends, but not over the loss of some one else's. The stories that stir us are the stories that deal with actual, tangible realities in such terms that they make us feel that we are living the story ourselves. Stevenson has some wise words on this subject in his essay, "A Gossip on Romance." The doctrine holds true for the making of arguments.
Even where as in Burke's speech "On Conciliation with America," abstractness is not vagueness, the style would be more effective for the richer feeling that hangs over and around a concrete vocabulary. The great vividness of Macaulay's style, and its bold over so many readers, is largely due to his unfailing use of the specific word. If you will take the trouble to notice what arguments in the last few months have seemed to you especially persuasive, you will be surprised to find how definite and concrete the terms are that they use.
Accordingly, if you wish to keep the readers of your argument awake and attentive, use terms that touch their everyday experience. If you are arguing for the establishment of a commission form of government, give in dollars and cents the sum that it cost under the old system to pave the three hundred yards of A Street, between 12th and 13th streets. The late Mr. Godkin of the New YorkEvening Post, in his lifelong campaign against corrupt government, to bring home to his readers the actual state of their city government and the character of the men who ran it, used their nicknames; "Long John" Corrigan, for example (if there had been such a personage); and "Bath-house John Somebody" has been a feature of campaigns in Chicago. The value of such names when skillfully used is that by their associations and connotation they do stir feeling. Likewise if you are arguing before an audience of graduates for a change from a group system to a free elective system in your college, you would use the names of courses with which they would be familiar and the names of professors under whom they had studied. If you were arguing for the introduction of manual training into a school, you would make taxpayers take an interest in the matter if you gave them the exact numbers of pupils from that school who have gone directly into mills or other work of the kind, and if you describe vividly just what is meant by manual training. If your description is in general terms they may grant you your principle, and then out of mere inertia and a vague feeling against change vote the other way.
A rough test for concreteness is your vocabulary: if your words are mostly Anglo-Saxon you will usually be talking about concrete things; if it is Latinate and polysyllabic it is probably abstract and general. Most of the things and actions of everyday life, the individual things like "walls" and "puppies," "summer" and "boys," "buying" and "selling," "praying" and "singing," have names belonging to the Anglo-Saxon part of the language; and though there are many exceptions, like "tables," and "telephones," and "professors," yet the more your vocabulary consists of the non-Latinate words, the more likely it is to be concrete, and therefore to keep your readers' attention and feelings alive. Use the simple terms of everyday life, therefore, rather than the learned words which would serve you if you were generalizing from many cases. Stick to the single case before you and to the interests of the particular people you are trying to win over. To touch their feelings remember that you must talk about the things they have feelings about.
The use of similes and metaphors and other figurative language raises a difficult question. On the whole, perhaps the best advice about using them is, Don't unless you have to. In other words, where a figure of speech is a necessity of expression, where you cannot make your thought clear and impart to it the warmth of feeling with which it is clothed in your own mind except by a touch of imaginative color, then use a figure of speech, if one flashes itself on your mind. If you add it deliberately as adornment of your speech, it will strike a false note; if you laboriously invent it the effort will show. Unless your thought and your eagerness for your subject flow naturally and inevitably into an image, it is better to stick to plain speech, for any suggestion of insincerity is fatal to the persuasiveness of an argument.
The value of the figure of speech is chiefly in giving expression to feelings which cannot be set forth in abstract words, the whole of whose meaning can be defined: in the connotation of words—that indefinable part of their meaning which consists in their associations, implications, and general emotional coloring—lies their power to clothe thought with the rich color of feeling which is the life. At the same time, they serve as a fillip to the attention. There are not very many people who can long keep the mind fixed on a purely abstract line of thought, and none can do it without some effort. Professor William James is a notable example of a writer whose thought flowed spontaneously into necessary figures of speech:
When one turns to the magnificent edifice of the physical sciences, and sees how it was reared; what thousands of disinterested moral lives of men lie buried in its mere foundations; what patience and postponement, what choking down of preference, what submission to the icy laws of outer fact are wrought into its very stones and mortar; how absolutely impersonal it stands in its vast augustness,—then how besotted and contemptible seems every little sentimentalist who comes blowing his voluntary smoke wreaths, and pretending to decide things out of his private dream63
When one turns to the magnificent edifice of the physical sciences, and sees how it was reared; what thousands of disinterested moral lives of men lie buried in its mere foundations; what patience and postponement, what choking down of preference, what submission to the icy laws of outer fact are wrought into its very stones and mortar; how absolutely impersonal it stands in its vast augustness,—then how besotted and contemptible seems every little sentimentalist who comes blowing his voluntary smoke wreaths, and pretending to decide things out of his private dream63
One cannot go to sleep over a style like that, for besides the obvious sincerity and rush of warm feeling, the vividness of the figures is like that of poetry. On the either hand, one must remember that it is given to few men to attain the unstudied eloquence of Professor James.
Fables and anecdotes serve much the same purpose, but more especially throw into memorable form the principle which they are intended to set forth. There are a good many truths which are either so complex or so subtle that they defy phrasing in compact form, yet their truth we all know by intuition. If for such a truth you can find a compact illustration, you can leave it much more firmly fixed in your readers' minds than by any amount of systematic exposition. Lincoln in his Springfield speech, for example, threw into striking form the feeling which was so common in the North, that each step forward in the advance of slavery so fitted into all earlier ones that something like a concerted plan must be assumed:
We cannot absolutely know that all these exact adaptations are, the result of preconcert. But when we see a lot of framed timbers, different portions of which we know have been gotten cut at different times and places and by different workmen,—Stephen, Franklin, Roger, and James, for instance,—and we see these timbers joined together, and see they exactly make the frame of a house or a mill, all the tenons and mortises exactly fitting, and all the lengths and proportions of the different pieces exactly adapted to their respective places, and not a piece too many or too few, not omitting even scaffolding,—or, if a single piece be lacking, we see the place in the frame exactly fitted and prepared yet to bring such piece in,—in such a case we find it impossible not to believe that Stephen and Franklin and Roger and James all understood one another from the beginning, and all worked upon a common plan or draft drawn up before the first blow was struck.
We cannot absolutely know that all these exact adaptations are, the result of preconcert. But when we see a lot of framed timbers, different portions of which we know have been gotten cut at different times and places and by different workmen,—Stephen, Franklin, Roger, and James, for instance,—and we see these timbers joined together, and see they exactly make the frame of a house or a mill, all the tenons and mortises exactly fitting, and all the lengths and proportions of the different pieces exactly adapted to their respective places, and not a piece too many or too few, not omitting even scaffolding,—or, if a single piece be lacking, we see the place in the frame exactly fitted and prepared yet to bring such piece in,—in such a case we find it impossible not to believe that Stephen and Franklin and Roger and James all understood one another from the beginning, and all worked upon a common plan or draft drawn up before the first blow was struck.
On the other hand, there is the danger of being florid or of playing the clown if you tell too many stories. Whether your style will seem florid or not depends a good deal on the part of the country you are writing for. There is no doubt that the taste of the South and of a good deal of the West is for a style more varied and highly colored than suits the soberer taste of the East. But whatever part of the country you are writing for, just so soon as your style seems to those special readers overloaded with ornament it will seem insincere. In the same way, if you stop too often to tell a story or to make your readers laugh, you will produce the impression of trifling with your subject. In both these respects be careful not to draw the attention of your readers away from the subject to your style.
The ultimate and least analyzable appeal of style is through that thrill of the voice which in written style appears as rhythm and harmony. Certain men are gifted with the capacity of so modulating their voices and throwing virtue into their tones that whoever hears them feels an indefinable thrill. So in writing: where sounds follow sounds in harmonious sequence, and the beat of the accent approaches regularity without falling into it, language takes on the expressiveness of music. It is well known that music expresses a range of feeling that lies beyond the powers of words: who can explain, for example, the thrill roused in him by a good brass band, or the indefinable melancholy and gloom created by the minor harmonies of one of the great funeral marches, or, in another direction, the impulse that sets him to whistling or singing on a bright morning in summer? There are many such kinds of feeling, real and potent parts of our consciousness; and if we can bring them to expression at all, we must do so through the rhythm and other sensuous qualities of the style which are pure sensation.
How is that to be done? The answer is difficult, and like that concerning the use of figurative language: do not try for it too deliberately. If without your thinking of it you find yourself becoming more earnest in speech, and more impressed with the seriousness of the issue you are arguing, your voice will show it naturally. So when you are writing: your earnestness will show, if you have had the training and have the natural gift for expression in words, in a lengthening and more strongly marked rhythm, in an intangibly richer coloring of sound. In speech the rhythm is apt to be shown in what is called parallel structure, the repetition of the same form of sentence, and in rhetorical questions. In writing, these forms more easily tend to seem either excited or artificial. Sustained periodic structure, too, can be carried by the speaking voice, when it would lag if written. Every one recognizes this incommunicable thrill of eloquence in great speakers and writers, but it is so much a gift of nature that it is not wise consciously to cultivate it.
59. Fairness and Sincerity. In the long run, however, nothing makes an argument appeal more to readers than an air of fairness and sincerity. If it is evident in an argument of fact that you are seeking to establish the truth, or in an argument of policy that your single aim is the greatest good of all concerned, your audience will listen to you with favorable ears. If on the other hand you seem to be chiefly concerned with the vanity of a personal victory, or to be thinking of selfish advantages, they will listen to you coolly and with jealous scrutiny of your points.
Accordingly, in making your preliminary survey to prepare the statement of the facts that are agreed on by both sides, go as far as you can in yielding points. If the question is worth arguing at all you will still have your hands full to get through it within your space. In particular waive all trivial points: nothing is more wearisome to readers than to plow through detailed arguments over points that no one cares about in the end. And meet the other side at least halfway in agreeing on the facts that do not need to be argued out. You will prejudice your audience if you make concessions in a grudging spirit. Likewise, wherever you have, to meet arguments put forward by the other side, state them with scrupulous fairness; if your audience has any reason to suppose that you are twisting the assertions of the other side to your own advantage, you have shaken their confidence in you, and thereby weakened the persuasive force of your argument. Use sarcasm with caution, and beware of any seeming of triumph. Sarcasm easily becomes cheap, and an air of triumph may look like petty smartness.
In short, in writing your argument, assume throughout the attitude of one who is seeking earnestly to bring the disagreement between the two sides to an end. If you are dealing with a question of fact, your sole duty is to establish the truth. If you are dealing with a question of policy, you know when you begin that whichever way the decision goes, one side will suffer some disadvantage; but aim to lessen that disadvantage, and to discover a way that will bring the greatest gain to the greatest number. An obvious spirit of conciliation is a large asset in persuasion.
With the conciliation make clear your sincerity. A chief difficulty with making arguments written in school and college persuasive is that they so often deal with subjects in which it is obvious that the writer's own feelings are not greatly concerned. This difficulty will disappear when you get out into the world, and make arguments in earnest. A great part of Lincoln's success as an advocate is said to have been due to the fact that he always tried to compose his cases and to make peace between the litigants, and that he never took a case in which he did not believe. If you leave on your audience the impression that you are sincere and in earnest, you have taken a long step towards winning over their feelings.
On the whole, then, when one is considering the question of persuasion, the figure of speech of a battle is not very apt. It is all very well when you are laying out your brief to speak, of deploying your various points, of directing an attack on your opponent's weakest point, of bringing up reserve material in rebuttal; but if the figure gets you into the way of thinking that you must always demolish your opponent, and treat him as an enemy, it is doing harm. If you will take the trouble to follow the controversies which are going on in your own city and state over public affairs, you will soon see that in most of them the two sides break even, so far as intelligence and public-spiritedness go. In every transaction there are two sides; and the president of a street railroad may be as honest and as disinterested in seeking to get the best of the bargain for his road as the representatives of the city are in trying to get the best of it for the public. There is no use going into a question of this sort with the assumption that you are on a higher moral plane than the other side. In some cases where a moral issue is involved there is only one view of what is right; if honesty is in the balance, there can be no other side. But, as we have seen, there are moral questions in which one must use his utmost strength for the right as he sees the right, and yet know all the time that equally honest men are fighting just as hard on the other side. No American who remembers the case of General Robert E. Lee can forget this puzzling truth. Therefore, unless there can be no doubt of the dishonesty of your opponent, turn your energies against his cause and not against him; and hold that the proper end of argument is not so much to win victories as to bring as many people as possible to agreement.
EXERCISES
1. Compare the length of the introductory part of the argument of the specimens at the end of this book; point out reasons for the difference in length, if you find any.
2. Find two arguments, not in this book, in which the main points at issue are numbered.
3. Find an argument, not in this book, in which a history of the case is part of the introduction.
4. Find an argument, not in this book, in which the definitions of terms occupy some space.
5. In the argument on which you are working, what terms need definition? How much space should the definitions occupy in the completed argument? Why?
6. In the argument on which you are working, how much of the material in the introduction to the brief shall you use in the argument itself? Does the audience you have in mind affect the decision?
7. How do you intend to distribute your space between the main issues you will argue out?
8. How much will explanation enter into your argument?
9. Find an argument, not in this book, in which the explanation chiefly makes the convincing power.
10. In which of the arguments in this book does explanation play the smallest part?
11. Examine five consecutive paragraphs in Huxley's argument on evolution, orThe Outlookargument on the Workman's Compensation Act, from the point of view of good explanation.
12. Find two examples of arguments, not in this book, whose chief appeal is to the feelings.
13. Find an argument, not in this book, which is a good illustration of the power of tact.
14. Name an argument which you have read within a few months which made a special impression on you by its clearness.
15. Find an argument in the daily papers, on local or academic affairs, which makes effective appeal to the practical interests of its audience. Analyze this appeal.
16. Name three subjects of local and immediate interest on which you could write an argument in which you would appeal chiefly to the practical interests of your readers.
17. Name two current political questions which turn on the practical interests of the country at large.
18. Name two public questions now under discussion into which moral issues enter. Do both sides on these questions accept the same view of the bearing of the moral issues?
19. Find an argument, not in this book, in which the eloquence of the style is a distinct part of the persuasive power.
20. What do you think of the persuasive power of Burke's speech "On Conciliation with America"? of its convincing power?
21. Find an argument, not in this book, in which the concreteness of the language adds to the persuasive power.
22. Find two examples, not in this book, of apt and effective figures of speech in an argument.
23. Find an example of an apt anecdote or fable used in an argument.
24. In Lincoln's address at Cooper Institute, what do you think of his attitude towards the South as respects fairness?
25. In the argument on which you are at work, what chance would there be of inducing agreement between the two sides?
60. The Nature of Debate. The essential difference between debate and written argument lies not so much in the natural difference between all spoken and written discourse as in the fact that in a debate of any kind there is the chance for an immediate answer to an opponent. Quickness of wit to see the weak points on the other side, readiness in attacking them, and resource in defending one's own points make the debater, as distinguished from the man who, if he be given plenty of time, can make a formidable and weighty argument in writing. The best debating is heard in deliberative bodies which are not too large, and where the rules are not too elaborate. Perhaps the best in the world is in the British House of Commons, for there the room is not so large that hearing is difficult, and skill in thrust and parry has been valued and practiced for generations.
The military figure for argument is more apposite in debate than anywhere else, for in the taking of the vote there is an actual victory and defeat, very different in nature from the barren decision of judges in intercollegiate and interscholastic contests. It is undoubtedly rare that a particular debate in any legislative body actually changes the result; but in the long run the debates in such bodies do mold public opinion, and within the body amalgamate or break up party ties. The resource and the ready knowledge of the subject under debate necessary to hold one's own in such running contests of wit Is an almost essential characteristic of a party leader. It is on these two qualities that I shall chiefly dwell in this chapter.
61. Subjects for Debate. Debate almost always deals with questions of policy. In trials before a jury there is something approaching a debate over questions of fact; but the rules of evidence are so special, and within their range so strict, that even though the arguments are spoken, they can have little of the free give and take which makes the life and the interest of a real debate. Accordingly I shall draw my illustrations here from questions of policy, and so far as is possible from the sort of question that students are likely to turn their attention to. The later years of school and the whole of the college course are often the molding years for a man's views on all sorts of public questions. It has been said that a man's views rarely change after he is twenty-five years old; and though one must not take such a dictum too literally, yet unquestionably it has truth. At any rate it is certain that a student, whether in high school or college, if he is to do his duty as a citizen, must begin to think out many of the questions which are being decided in Congress, in state legislatures, and in smaller, more local bodies. At the same time, in every school and college questions are constantly under discussion of a nature to provide good practice in debate. Some of these questions must be decided by school committee, principal, faculty, or trustees, and most of them call for some looking up of facts. They would provide admirable material for the development of judgment and resource in debating, and in some cases a debate on them might have effect on the actual decision.
The choice of subject is even more important for debating than for written argument. In a written argument if you have a question which has two defensible sides, it does not make much difference whether one is easier to defend than the other: in a debate such a difference might destroy the usefulness of the subject. Though to some older minds the abolition of football is a debatable question, before an audience of undergraduates who had to vote on the merits of the question the subject would be useless, since the side which had to urge the abolition would here have an almost impossible task. So in a debate on the "closed shop," in most workingmen's clubs the negative would be able to accomplish little, for the other side would be intrenched in the prejudices and prepossessions of the audience. In political bodies unevenness of sides is of common occurrence, for a minority must always defend its doctrines, no matter how overwhelming the vote is certain to be. In the formal debates of school and college, on the other hand, where the conditions must be more or less artificial, the first condition is to choose a question which will give the two sides an even chance.
A fair test of this evenness of sides is to see whether the public which is concerned with the question is evenly divided: if about the same number of men who are acquainted with the subject and are recognized as fair-minded take opposite sides, the question is probably a good subject for debate. Even this test, however, may be deceptive, since believing a policy to be sound and being able to show that it is so are very different matters. The reasons for introducing the honor system into a certain school or college are probably easier to state and to support than the reasons against introducing it; yet the latter may be unquestionably weighty.
In general, arguments which rest on large and more or less abstract principles are at a disadvantage as against arguments based on some immediate and pressing evil or on some obvious expediency. Arguments for or against a protective tariff on general principles of political economy are harder to make interesting and, therefore, cogent to the average audience than are those based on direct practical gains or losses. This difference in the ease with which the two sides of a question can be argued must be taken into account in the choice of a subject.
In the second place, the subject should be so phrased that it will inevitably produce a "head-on" collision between the two sides. If such a proposition as "The present city government should be changed" were chosen for a debate, one side might argue it as a question of the party or of the men who happened to be in control at the time, and the other as a question of the form of government. So on the question of self-government for a college or school, unless the type of self-government were carefully defined, the two sides might argue through the debate and not come in sight of each other. What was said in Chapter II about framing the proposition for an argument applies with even more force to finding the proposition for a debate; for here if they do not meet on an irreconcilable difference, there is little use in their coming together.
In the third place, it is desirable that the proposition should be so framed as to throw the burden of proof on the affirmative. Unless the side which opens the debate has something definite to propose, the debate must open more or less lamely, for it is hard to attack or oppose something which is going to be set forth after you have finished talking. Here, however, as in the case of written arguments, it must be remembered that burden of proof is a vague and slippery term; "he who asserts must prove" is a maxim that in debate applies to the larger issues only, and the average audience will give themselves little trouble about the finer applications of it. If you are proposing a change in present conditions, and the present conditions are not very bad, they will expect you to show why there should be a change, and to make clear that the change you propose will work an improvement. It is only when conditions have become intolerable that an audience thinks first of the remedy. In the ordinary school or college, for example, there is little reason in current conditions for introducing the honor system in examinations: in such a case the burden of proof on the affirmative would be obvious, If, however, as occasionally happens, there has been an epidemic of dishonesty in written work, then the authorities of the school and the parents would want to know why there should not be a change. But it would both bore and confuse an audience to explain to them at length the theory of the shifting of the burden of proof; and the chances are that they would say, "Why doesn't he prove his point, and not spend his time beating about the bush?"
Finally, the proposition should, if possible, give to the negative as well as to the affirmative some constructive argument. If one side occupies itself wholly with showing the weakness of the arguments on the other side, you get nowhere on the merits of the question; for all that has been shown in the debate, the proposition put forward by the affirmative may be sound, and the only weakness lie in its defenders. Moreover, where the negative side finds no constructive argument on the merits of the question, or elects to confine itself to destructive, arguments, it must beware of the fallacy "of objections"; that is, of assuming that when it has brought forward some objections to the proposition it has settled the matter. As I have so often pointed out in this treatise, no question is worth arguing unless it has two sides; and that is merely saying, in another way, that to both sides there are reasonable objections. Where a negative side confines itself to destructive arguments it must make clear that the objections it presents are really destructive, or at any rate are clearly more grave than those which can be brought against leaving things as they are. And if they confine themselves to destroying the arguments brought forward by the affirmative in this particular debate, they must make clear that these arguments are the strongest that can be brought forward on that side.
On all questions as to construction of terms and burden of proof, it should be understood beforehand that the judges of a formal debate will heavily penalize anything like pettifogging or quibbling. The two sides should do their best to come to a "head-on" issue; and any attempt at standing on precise definition, or sharp practice in leading the other side away from the main question, should be held to be not playing the game. Where the judges are drawn from men of experience in affairs, as is usually the case, they will estimate such boyish smartnesses at their true value.
62. Technical Forms. The formal debates of school and college have certain forms and conventions which are partly based on parliamentary procedure, partly have been worked out to make these debates more interesting and better as practice; and there are certain preliminary arrangements that improve debating both as intellectual training and as fun. I shall speak first of the forms and conventions.
In debates in school and college it is usual to have two or three on a side, and for good reasons. In the first place, the labor of working up the subject is shared, and it is better fun working with some one else. Then, in the debate itself there is more variety. In class debates there are usually two speakers on each side, with provision of time for several four- or five-minute speeches from the floor before the closing speeches in rebuttal.64If there are as many speakers as this a two-hour period must be allowed. This allotment of time will naturally be adapted to special conditions; as, for example, where it is desirable that there shall be more speakers from the floor, or where it is desired to give the whole time to the regular debaters. In important intercollegiate debates there are usually three speakers, each of whom has ten minutes for his main speech and five minutes for rebuttal. This arrangement varies greatly, however, in different places, and not infrequently there is only one speech in rebuttal. The affirmative is usually given the last speech, on the theory that it is a disadvantage to have to open the debate. Obviously, however, in practice the reverse may often be true, since a skillful speech in opening may largely determine the course of the debate; and for this reason many debating societies and colleges allow the closing speech to the negative. It is wise not to look on any of these rules as inviolable.65
The distribution of the points between the speakers on a side should be made beforehand, but always with the understanding that the exigencies of the debate may upset the arrangement. We shall see presently the advantage there is in having each member of a "team" prepared to defend all the points on his side. The only speech for which a fixed program can be made beforehand is the first speech on the affirmative: obviously this must at any rate expound the main facts which the audience must know in order to understand the speeches that follow. After that each speaker should be prepared either to answer directly what has just been said or to explain why he postpones the answer. At the same time, unless his hand has been forced, he must make the point or points which have been committed to him in the preliminary plan of campaign. Each speaker after the first generally takes a minute or two to sum up the position as his side sees it; and the final speaker on each side ought to save time to recapitulate and drive home the main points that his side has made and the chief objections to the arguments on the other side. Beyond these suggestions, which should not be allowed to harden into invariable rules, much must be left to the swift judgment of the debaters. It is a good test of skill in debating to know just when to stick to such rules, and when to break away from them.
A debater uses certain forms which have long been established in parliamentary law. To begin with, he never uses the name of his opponent: if he has to refer to him he refers indirectly in some such form as "the last speaker," "the first speaker for the affirmative," "the gentlemen from Wisconsin," "our opponents," "my colleague who has just spoken." This is an inviolable rule of all debating bodies, whether a class in school or college or one of the Houses of Congress.
In a formal debate the subject is stated by the presiding officer, who is usually not one of the judges, and he also introduces each of the speakers in the order agreed on beforehand.
In class debates the subject is usually given out by the instructor, who may assign the speakers, or may call for volunteers, or may let each member of the class take his turn in regular rotation. This distribution will usually work itself out to suit the class and the circumstances. In interscholastic and intercollegiate debates the subject is generally chosen by letting one side offer a number of subjects from which the other selects one. Sometimes the team which does not have the choice of subject has the choice of sides after the other team has picked the subject. In a triangular debate two or three subjects are proposed by each team, and then one is selected by preferential voting of all the contestants, first choice counting three points, second two, and third one. In such a contest each institution has two teams, one of which supports the affirmative, and the other the negative; and the three debates take place on the same day or evening.
In class debates the two sides should unite in preparing an agreed statement of facts, which shall contain so much of the history of the case as is pertinent, facts and issues which it is agreed shall be waived, and a statement of the main issues. Furthermore, it is highly desirable that the sides should submit to each other outline briefs covering the main points of their case. With such preparations there is little probability that there can be any failure to meet. The same preparations would be useful in interscholastic and intercollegiate debates, wherever they are practicable. Anything which leads to a thorough discussion of identical points and to the consequent illumination of the question makes these entertainments more valuable.
For intercollegiate and interscholastic debates it is wise to have some sort of instructions for the judges, which should be agreed on beforehand. These instructions must make clear that the decision is to turn not on the merits of the question, as in real life, but on the merits of the debaters. Among those merits the substance should count much more than the form. Of the points that count in judging the substance of the debate the instructions may note keenness of analysis, power of exposition, thoroughness of preparation, judgment in the selection of evidence, readiness and effectiveness in rebuttal, and grasp of the subject as a whole. For form the instructions may mention bearing, ease and appropriateness of gesture, quality and expressiveness of voice, enunciation and pronunciation, and general effectiveness of delivery. Sometimes these points are drawn up with percentages to suggest their proportionate weight; but it is doubtful whether so exact a calculation can ever be of practical value. In most cases the judges will decide from a much less articulate sense of which side has the advantage.66
63. Preparations for Debating. Since the chief value of debating, as distinguished from written arguments, is in cultivating readiness and flexibility of wit, the speaking should be as far as possible extemporaneous. This does not imply that the speaking should be without preparation: on the contrary, the preparation for good debating is more arduous than for a written argument, for when you are on your feet on the platform you cannot run to your books or to your notes to refresh your memory or to find new material. The ideal debater is the man who so carries the whole subject in his mind that the facts flow to his mind as he talks, and fit into the plan of his argument without a break. To the rare men who remember everything they read, such readiness is natural, but to far the largest number of speakers it comes only through hard study of the material. Daniel Webster declared that the material for his famous Reply to Hayne had been in his desk for months. In so far as debating consists in the recitation of set speeches written out and committed to memory beforehand, it throws away most of what makes debating valuable, and tends to become elocution. We shall consider here, therefore, ways in which speakers can make themselves so familiar with the subject to be debated that they can confidently cut loose from their notes.
In the first place, each debater on a team should prepare himself on the whole subject, not only on the whole of his own side, but also on the whole of the other side. It is usual to divide up the chief points that a team is to make among its different members; but in the sudden turns to which every debate is liable such assignment may easily become impossible. If the other side presents new material or makes a point in such a way as manifestly to impress the audience, the next speaker may have to throw over the point assigned to him and give himself immediately to refuting the arguments just made. Then his points must be left to his colleagues, and they must be able to use them to effect. Likewise a team should know the strong points on the other side as well as on its own, and come to the platform primed with arguments to meet them. In intercollegiate contests, to insure this fore-knowledge of the other side the speakers as part of their preparation meet men from their own college who argue out the other side in detail and at length. In a triangular contest each team from a college has the advantage of having worked up the subject in actual debate against the other. The more thoroughly you have worked up both sides of the question, the less likely are you to be taken by surprise by some argument which you do not know how to meet.
64. On the Platform. When it comes to the actual debate experience shows that speeches committed to memory are almost always ineffective as compared with extemporaneous speaking. Even when your confidence is not disturbed by a slippery memory there is an impalpable touch of the artificial about the prepared speech which impairs its vitality. On the other hand, especially with the first speeches on each side, you cannot get to your feet and trust entirely to the inspiration of the moment; you must have something thought out. One of the most notable lecturers in Harvard University prepares his lectures in a way which is an excellent model for debaters. He writes out beforehand a complete analytical and tabulated plan of his lecture, similar to the briefs which have been recommended here in Chapter II, with each of the main principles of his lecture, and with the subdivisions and illustrations inserted. Then he leaves this outline at home and talks from a full and well-ordered mind. Some such plan is the best possible one for the main speeches in a debate. Often the plan can be most easily prepared by writing out the argument in full; and this expansion of the argument has the added advantage of providing you with much of your phrasing. But it is better not to commit the complete argument to memory: the brief of it, if thoroughly digested and so studied as to come readily to mind, is enough. Then practice, practice, practice, will give the ease and fluency that you need.
The rebuttal should always be extemporaneous. Even if you have foreseen the strongest points made by your opponent and prepared yourself to meet them, you cannot foresee just the way he will make the points. Nothing is more awkward in a debate than to begin with a few obviously extemporaneous remarks, and then to let loose a little speech which has been kept, as it were, in cold storage, and which just misses fitting the speech to which it should be an answer. It is better to make the rebuttal a little less sweeping than it might be and have it fall pat on the speech which it is attacking. Ready and spontaneous skill in rebuttal is the final excellence of debating. At the same time the skill should be so natural that wit and good humor may have their chance. If from the beginning you practice making your speeches in rebuttal offhand, you will constantly gain in confidence when you are called on to speak.
Whether to take notes on to the platform or not is a somewhat disputed question. If you can speak without them and hold without stumbling to the main course of your argument, so much the better. On the other hand, most lawyers have their briefs when they are arguing on points of law, and some sort of rough notes when they are arguing before a jury; and when unassumingly and naturally used, notes are hardly observed by an audience. Only, if you do have notes, do not try to conceal them: hold them so that the audience will know what they are, and will not wonder what you are doing when you peer into the palm of your hand.
If you have passages to quote from a book or other document, have the book on the table beside you; its appearance will add substance to your point, and the audience will have ocular proof that you are quoting exactly.
For purposes of rebuttal it is usual to have material on cards arranged under the principal subdivisions of the subject, so that they can readily be found. These cards can be kept in the small wooden or pasteboard boxes that are sold for the purpose at college stationers. If the cards have the proper kind of headings, you can easily look them over while your opponent is speaking and pull out the few that bear on the point you are to meet. Examples of these cards have been given in Chapter II. The important thing for their use in a debate is to have the headings so clear and pertinent that you can instantly find the particular card you want. Naturally you will have made yourself thoroughly familiar with them beforehand.
When you have to use statistics, simplify them so that your hearers can take them in without effort. Large numbers should be given in round figures, except where some special emphasis or perhaps some semihumorous effect is to be gained by giving them in full. Quotations from books or speeches must of necessity be short: where you have only ten minutes yourself you cannot give five minutes to the words of another man.
Keep your audience in good humor; if you can occasion ally relieve the solemnity of the occasion by making them laugh, they will like you the better for it, and think none the worse of your argument. On the other hand, remember that such diversion is incidental, and that your main business is to deal seriously with a serious question. The uneasy self-consciousness that keeps a man always trying to be funny is nowhere more out of place than in a debate.
65. Voice and Position. The matter of delivery is highly important, and here no man can trust to the light of nature. Any voice can be made to carry further and to be more expressive, and the poorest and thinnest voice can be improved. Every student who has a dream of being a public speaker should take lessons in elocution or in singing or in both. The expressiveness as well as the carrying power and the endurance of a voice depend on a knowledge of how to use the muscles of the chest, throat, and face; and trainers of the voice have worked out methods for the proper use of all these sets of muscles. A man who throws his breath from the top of his chest and does not use the great bellows that reach down to his diaphragm can get little carrying power. So with the throat: if it is stiff and pinched the tones will be high and forced, and listening to them will tire the audience nearly as much as making them will tire the speaker. Finally, the expressiveness of a voice, the thrill that unconsciously but powerfully stirs hearers, is largely a matter of the resonance that comes from the spaces above the mouth and behind the nose. A humorous singing teacher once declared that the soul resides in the bridge of the nose; and the saying is not so paradoxical as it sounds. Lessons in the use of all these parts, and faithful practice in the exercises which go with them, are essential for any man who wishes to make a mark in public speaking.
With the use of the voice, though less essential, goes the position and bearing on the platform. It is not necessary to insist that the more natural this is, the better. If you can wholly forget yourself and think only of your points, the chances are that your attitudes and position will take care of themselves. Only, before thus forgetting yourself, form the habit of talking without putting your hands in your pockets. You ought to need your hands to talk with, if not as much as a Frenchman or an Italian, yet enough to emphasize your points naturally. The mere physical stimulus to the eye of an audience in following your movements will help to keep their attention awake. Every one who has tried lecturing to a large class knows how much easier it is to hold them if he stands up and moves a little from time to time. Learn to stand easily and naturally, with your chest well expanded, and your weight comfortably balanced on your feet. If it comes natural to you, move about the stage slightly from time to time; but be careful not to look each time you move as if a string had been pulled. In attitude and gesture the only profitable council is, Be natural.
For all these matters of preparation, both of what you are going to say, the use of your voice, and your attitude and action on the platform, be prepared for hard practice with competent criticism. It is a good plan to practice talking from your outlines with your watch open, until you can bring your speech to an end in exactly the time allowed you. The gain in confidence when you go to the debate will in itself be worth the time. Again, practice speaking before a glass to make sure that you have no tricks of scowling or of making faces when you talk, and to get used to standing up straight and holding yourself well. What you see for yourself of your own ways will help you more than the advice of a critic.
But in all your preparation think beyond the special debate you are preparing for. What you are or should be aiming at is habit—the instinctive, spontaneous execution of rules which you have forgotten. When the habit is established you can let all these questions of voice, of attitude, of gesture, drop from your mind, and give your whole attention to the ideas you are developing, and the language in which you shall clothe them. Then the tones of your voice will respond to the earnestness of your feeling, and your gestures will be the spontaneous response to the emphasis of your thought. You will not be a perfect debater until all these matters are regulated from the unconscious depths of your mind.
In your attitude towards the debaters on the other side be scrupulously fair and friendly. In class debates the matter is finished when the debate is over; and what you are after is skill, and not beating some one. In interscholastic and intercollegiate debates victory is the end; but even there, after the debate you will often go out to supper with your opponents. Therefore demolish their arguments, but do not smash their makers.
If the first speech falls to you, set forth the facts in such a way that not only your opponents will have no corrections or protests to make, but that they will be wholly willing to make a start from your foundation. Yield all trivial points: it is a waste of your time and proof of an undeveloped sense of proportion to haggle over points that in the end nobody cares about. You have won a point if you can make the audience and the judges feel that you are anxious to allow everything possible to the other side.
If your opponent trips on some small point of fact or reasoning, don't heckle him; let it pass, or, at the most, point it out with some kindly touch of humor. If his facts or his reasoning are wrong on important points, that is your opportunity, and you must make the most of it. Even then, however, stick to the argument, and keep away from any appearance of being personal.
66. The Morals of Debating. There is a moral or ethical side to practice in debating which one cannot ignore. It is dangerous to get into the habit of arguing lightly for things in which one does not believe; and students may be forced into doing this if great care is not taken in the choice of subjects and sides. The remedy lies in using, so far as they can be kept interesting, questions in which there is no moral element; but still better in assigning sides to correspond with the actual views and preferences of the debaters. Where a question of principle is involved no one should ever argue against his beliefs. The better class of lawyers are scrupulous about this: they will not accept a brief which they believe to be in a cause which ought not to win. If you have clearly made up your mind on a question of public policy, you are in a false position if you argue, even for practice, against what you believe to be the right.
The formal debates of school and college are of necessity barren of practical result; yet even here your discussions have a potent effect in molding your opinions. It is a habit of mankind to start idly talking on a subject, and as idly taking sides; then, when the talk grows warmer, in the natural desire to carry a point to talk themselves into belief. This is a human, though not a very reasonable way of framing your views on public questions; and it does not make either for consistency or for usefulness as a voter. It is not good to back one's self into opinions of what makes for the common weal.
Furthermore, debate is something very different from dispute: to talk round and round a subject, contradicting blindly and asserting without bringing forward facts, has its place in our life with our friends, so long as it is good-natured; but it does not bring illumination. The essence of debate, whether in a classroom, in a city council, or in Congress, should be to throw light into dark corners, and to disentangle the view that most makes for the general good. For us in Americanoblesse obligeapplies to every educated man. The graduate of a high school, and, even more, the graduate of a college, has taken exceptional benefits from the community. This obligation he can in part repay by helping all citizens to a better understanding of the issues on which the progress of the nation turns.
Finally, debating should share the zest that comes of any good game that means hard work and an honorable struggle with opponents one respects and likes. It is preeminently a social occupation. The House of Commons has long been noted as the best club in England; and this sense of fellowship, of continuing friendship and intimacy, gives a charm to English parliamentary life which is hardly possible with the unwieldy numbers and huge hall of our own House of Representatives, but does spring out of the smaller and continuing membership of the Senate. A class in debating should have the sense of comradeship which comes of hard work together and the trying out of one's own powers against one's equals and betters, and from the memory of hard-fought contests; and intercollegiate and interscholastic contests should be carried on in the same spirit of zest in the hard work, of a sane desire to win, and of comradeship with worthy opponents.
EXERCISES
1. Name three questions in national affairs which have been debated within a month, on which you could profitably debate; three in state affairs; three in local affairs.
2. Name two subjects affecting your school or college which are under debate at the present time.
3. Name two subjects on which you could write an argument, but which would not be profitable for debate. Explain the reason.
4. Name two good subjects for a debate drawn from athletics; two from some current academic question; two from local or municipal affairs.
5. Find a proposition in which the two sides to a debate might in good faith pass each other without meeting. Make it over so that the issue would be unavoidable.
6. Frame a proposition in which the burden of proof would not be on the affirmative. Make it over so that the burden of proof would fall on the affirmative.
7. Draw up a scheme for a debate on one of the propositions in Exercise 4, with a tentative assignment of points to three debaters on a side.
8. Draw up a set of instructions to judges for an intercollegiate or interscholastic debate, so framed as to produce a decision on the points which seem to you the most important.
9. Prepare yourself for a five-minute extemporaneous speech on a subject on which you have written an argument.
10. Name three questions on which you could not, without violence to your convictions, argue on more than one side.