ments in a manner to awaken our sympathies. To argue without awakening sympathy may be correct reasoning, but is not oratory; to arouse passion and prejudice without resort to argument is demagogism.

Hence, upon questions which are determined by the rules of the mere understanding, we are not to expect oratory, e. g., upon questions of science. Oratory is in place only in human affairs, in so-called "mixed questions," where there are two sides, both of which are plausible, and the comparative merits of which can be tested only by Testimony, Authority, and Analogy (§§ 70–72).

In many law-cases, e. g., suits for the possession of real property, for breaches of commercial contract, and the like, there is no room for an appeal to the feelings, hence there can be no genuine oratory. The lawyer advances merely technical arguments, and submits them practically to the court, i. e., to a man or a body of men supposed to be divested, for this purpose, of all emotion. Yet even in very technical law an emotional appeal is possible. A celebrated instance is Webster's speech in the Dartmouth College Case. After going through all the intricacies of the law upon private corporations, he ended with the following peroration, the most remarkable ever delivered in a purely civil suit involving no personal rights:

This, sir, is my case. It is the case, not merely of that humble institution, it is the case of every college in the land. It is more. It is the case of every eleemosynary institution throughout our country—of all those great charities formed by the piety of our ancestors, to alleviate human misery, and scatter blessings along the pathway of life. It is more! It is, in some sense, the case of every man among us who has property, of which he may be stripped, for the question is simply this: Shall our State legislatures be allowed to take that which is not their own, to turn it from its original use, and apply it to such ends or purposes as they in their discretion shall see fit?

Sir, you may destroy this little institution; it is weak; it is in your hands! I know it is one of the lesser lights in the literary horizon of our country. You may put it out. But, if you do so, you must carry

through your work! You must extinguish, one after another, all those greater lights of science, which, for more than a century, have thrown their radiance over our land!

It is, sir, as I have said, a small college, and yet there are those who love it.

At this point, struggling with emotion, his eyes filled with tears, he spoke in broken words for a few minutes of his own connection with Dartmouth. Court and spectators hung upon the words, as if spell-bound. Then, recovering his composure and speaking in his usual deep rich voice, he uttered the final sentence:

Sir, I know not how others may feel [glancing at the opponents of the college before him], but for myself, when I see my Alma Mater surrounded, like Cæsar, in the senate house, by those who are reiterating stab after stab, I would not, for this right hand, have her turn to me, and say, et tu quoque, mi fili! And thou too, my son!

206. In oratory special attention should be paid to the introduction (exordium) and the conclusion (peroration); the practical objections mentioned in § 125 do not apply here.

By means of a skilful introduction the orator defines the issue clearly and succinctly, or he creates provisionally some sentiment in favor of his cause. Webster's statement of the issue in the Dartmouth College case is quoted in § 21. The opening paragraph of his Defence of the Kennistons is an ingenious enumeration of the circumstances which make the trial a peculiar hardship for his clients. Although quite unobtrusive, the introduction is really a subtle appeal to the compassion of the jury. To be noted is the repetition of the construction, "They have lost," (see § 10).

In the opening paragraph of his reply to Calhoun (The Constitution not a Compact), Webster recalls the Senate from the excitement caused by Calhoun's tone of wrath to a more sober and practical frame of mind:

Mr. President,-The gentleman from South Carolina has admonished

us to be mindful of the opinion of those who shall come after us. We must take our chance, Sir, as to the light in which posterity will regard us. I do not decline its judgment, nor withhold myself from its scrutiny. Feeling that I am performing my public duty with singleness of heart and to the best of my ability, I fearlessly trust myself to the country, now and hereafter, and leave both my motives and my character to its decision.

The opening of the Saratoga speech is a sketch of the situation, in clear bold lines:

We are, my friends, in the midst of a great movement of the people. That a revolution in public sentiment on some important questions of public policy has begun, and is in progress, it is vain to attempt to conceal, and folly to deny, etc.

The peroration in the Dartmouth College case is quoted in § 205. More generally known is the peroration of the Reply to Hayne:

I have not allowed myself, Sir, to look beyond the Union to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess behind.

ending with the memorable outburst:

Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable!

Highly skilful, from the legal point of view, is the summing up in the Defence of the Kennistons:

If the jury are satisfied that there is the highest improbability that these persons could have had any previous knowledge of Goodridge, or been concerned in any previous concert to rob him; if their conduct that evening and the next day was marked by no circumstances of suspicion; if from that moment until their arrest nothing appeared against them; if they neither passed money, nor are found to have had money; if the manner of the search of their house, and the circumstances attending it, excite strong suspicions of unfair and fraudulent practices; if, in the hour of their utmost peril, no promises of safety could draw from the defendants any confession affecting themselves or others, it will be for the jury to say whether they can pronounce them guilty. It will be noted that Webster does not end:

it will be for the jury to pronounce them innocent.

That would have been a direction, a charge to the jury; and Webster was too dexterous a pleader to usurp the

office of judge. He merely affects to ask the jury whether they can, in honor and conscience, really believe the defendants to be guilty. This feigned hesitancy is similar to Burke's (§ 13, first quotation; § 115).

207. Comparatively few students and readers are members of the legal profession, or of any legislative body. The greater number of readers are directly interested only in demonstrative oratory. It is needful, therefore, to say a few words upon this branch in particular.

In demonstrative oratory there is little or no argument. The orator is not trying to prove anything, or to urge his hearers to vote for a certain measure. He is rather trying to interest them in a certain subject and thereby to influence their general conduct.

Hence the substance of the discourse is exposition rather than argument; but it is exposition made persuasive. An admirable specimen is Webster's Bunker Hill Oration.

The orator does not prove anything, not even the right of the Colonies to rebel; all such matters are taken for granted. The oration is in the main a contrast between the present and the past, with the lessons to be drawn from the contrast. The past is recalled in its most striking aspects; the survivors of the battle, of the revolutionary army, Warren, and Lafayette are in turn commemorated. The present is next presented, with its outlook of hope, and also with its darker side. The policy of sober self-government in America is contrasted with oppression and frantic rebellion elsewhere.

In conclusion, the orator calls upon his hearers to "indulge an honest exultation" in the conviction of the benefits which the example of the United States is likely to produce. Great privileges impose great obligations. Upon every American rests a two-fold obligation: to augment the material prosperity of the country; to maintain the country in its integrity (see § 158, 4).

Although much more than half a century has passed since the oration was delivered, its lessons are still fresh. No thoughtful person can read Webster's simple lucid exposition of the significance of the occasion and of the event commemorated by it, without feeling his heart profoundly stirred, without feeling a stronger, more definite impulse to serve his country better. This is the persuasion of oratory.

DEBATE.

208. Any discussion in which opposite sides of a question, theoretical or practical, are presented, is called a debate. Thus we speak of debates in Congress, or in Parliament. But in the narrower and more rhetorical sense of the term, a debate is the formal discussion of a proposition in the abstract (see § 63), the proposition being carefully formulated, and the two sides, called the affirmative and the negative, being presented alternately by speakers speaking in a prescribed order. Frequently, perhaps usually, the audience, or a select committee representing the audience, decides by vote that one of the two sides has got the better of the debate.

A debate is, then, a literary exercise of an argumentative and persuasive character. In school and college training it has its value. It teaches the debater to look into questions more closely than he otherwise might, to present his views in an orderly manner, and to meet opposing views. The time of each speech being limited to a certain number of minutes, the debater must acquire the gift of speaking to the point. He must also acquire the gift of self-possession, of detecting any weakness in the opposite side and turning it to account.

In order that a debate may be profitable, it should be fairly stated and the burden of proof determined.

209. Proposition; Burden of Proof.-The burden of proof is really involved in the proposition; as soon as