as a favor, but as a right, not as being expedient, but as being nothing more than what is just.

The deliberative differs from the demonstrative, in laboring to sway the opinions of the audience, and to secure a vote in favor of what it claims to be best. It differs from the judicial, in recognizing in the body addressed a perfect freedom of choice. The demonstrative deals with our affections; the judicial appeals to our judgment of right and wrong; the deliberative calls for the exercise of wisdom in relation to what is useful, what is expedient, what is best to be done.

The occasions for the use of deliberative eloquence are now more numerous and important than they ever have been in any previous age of the world. Wherever the will of the people is the law of the land, wherever republican principles prevail to any considerable extent, there deliberative assemblies must often be convened.

In our own country, accordingly, they abound in every quarter, and consider every topic of common interest. The Congress of the United States is a deliberative assembly. The Legislatures of the several States are deliberative assemblies. Every town meeting, every county gathering, every State or National Convention, every association of persons, whatever the purposes of the association, constitutes a deliberative assembly. In all these, propositions are submitted for consideration, discussed with freedom, and received, or rejected, according to the will of the body.

The variety of interests involved in the transactions of bodies of this nature, and the necessity of preventing party sway and hasty action, render it important for every one to be ready to exert a wholesome influence in

their deliberations. Few men, comparatively, ever have opportunity or inclination to exercise their talents in the composition and delivery of set orations or lectures adapted to particular times and occasions. But to speak in a deliberative assembly, to enlighten and sway the minds of men engaged in the consideration of momentous affairs, may be the lot of every one. Hence, every man owes it to the community in which he lives, no less than to his own honor and interest, to fit himself, as far as may be, to discharge this most important duty.

From this brief survey of the nature and extent of deliberative eloquence, may easily be inferred the qualifications proper to be sought by him who aspires to the character of a good debater.

In certain general qualities he must, of course, share with the orator in every other field of oratory. He must, for example, be accounted an upright man; for otherwise his arguments, however forcible, his illustrations however clear, his delivery however graceful, will all suffer under the withering influence of a want of confidence. Integrity of character is, indeed, the capital quality-the "wisdom better than rubies; and all things that may be desired are not to be compared with it."

He must have the requisite natural gifts, and these must be cultivated with care and assiduity; for no fertility of genius, no powers of voice, no volubility of tongue, no grace of gesture, can ever atone for the absence of culture and discipline. Labor is the price of eminence in the fields of eloquence, as in every other honorable vocation.

He must have full control of himself, and a becoming respect for the feelings of others; for whatever may be the honesty of his intentions, the discipline of his intellectual powers, the treasures of his mind, or the fascinations of his oratory, if his temper be bad, his manner assuming, or his tone dictatorial, his success, in any and every line of speaking, must be seriously hindered. There is a mysterious charm in good nature, a certain irresistible attraction in every evidence of modesty, benevolence, and forbearance, which, in a public assembly, is often found more effective far than the most commanding talents.

But, in addition to those general qualifications which the good debater has in common with genuine orators of every description, there are others that belong peculiarly to his position and circumstances. Several of these, being the most important, we shall here specify and commend to the reader's attention.

1. He must, then, first and last, always endeavor to gain the good will of his audience: remembering, that persuasion is the only power at his command, and that the will of the assembly is the ultimate tribunal. In orations of the demonstrative kind, the orator may, with no little confidence, put his trust in wit, in humor, in mere novelty, in beauty and sublimity of thought, in felicities of diction and in graceful postures and attitudes; for his hearers are, for the most part, in a mood to be pleased, and are not to be called upon by a decisive vote to determine the merits of his performance. In speeches of the judicial kind, the speaker is fully justified in relying solely upon the making out of his case. If that which is alleged, is fully proved, he is

entitled to a verdict in favor of his client, and neither judge nor jury have either right or power to deny it.

But it is not so in deliberative bodies. The deliberative orator often addresses those who are well, or ill affected towards a cause, because they are well, or ill affected towards him who advocates it. And, since it is altogether optional with them to adopt, or reject what he recommends, it is of the utmost importance, that he should not lose the influence that ever accompanies a speaker who is regarded with kindness by his auditory.

2. He should be quick to discern those motives most likely to sway his auditors; otherwise his appeals will be powerless, because misdirected. There is a passage in the dialogue between Cicero and his son, quite pertinent to the present occasion, which, says a great and good man,* "I recommend, as the truly paternal advice of a father to his child." The passage is this: "The discourse must be accommodated, not only to the truth, but to the taste of the hearers. Observe, then, first of all, that there are two different descriptions of men; the one rude and ignorant, who always set profit before honor; the other polished and civilized, who prefer honor to everything. Urge, then, to the latter of these classes considerations of praise, of honor, of glory, of fidelity, of justice; in short, of every virtue. To the former present images of gain, of emolument, of thrift; nay, in addressing this kind of men, you must even allure them with the bait of pleasure. Pleasure, always hostile to virtue, always corrupting, by fraudulent imita*John Quincy Adams.

tion, the very nature of goodness herself, is yet most eagerly pursued by the worst of men; and by them often preferred not only to every instigation of honor, but even to the dictates of necessity. Remember, too, that mankind are more anxious to escape evil, than to obtain good; less eager to acquire honor, than to avoid shame. Who ever sought honor, glory, praise, or fame of any kind, with the same ardor that we fly from those most cruel of afflictions, ignominy, contumely, and scorn? Again; there is a class of men, naturally inclined to honorable sentiments, but corrupted by evil education and vitiated opinions. Is it your purpose, then, to exhort or persuade, remember that the task before you is that of teaching how to obtain good, and eschew evil. Are you speaking to men of liberal education, enlarge upon topics of praise and honor; insist with the keenest earnestness upon those virtues which contribute to the common safety and advantage of mankind. But, if you are discoursing to gross, ignorant, untutored minds, to them hold up profit, lucre, money-making, pleasure, and escape from pain. Deter them, also, by the prospect of shame and ignominy; for no man, however insensible to positive glory, is made of such impenetrable stuff, as not to be vehemently moved by the dread of infamy and disgrace."

To the same end, Quinctilian observes: "Now, there is no difficulty in persuading the virtuous to follow virtuous measures. But, if we are to plead for such measures before men of abandoned principles, we are carefully to avoid all appearance of reproaching them for the contrariety that there is between the measures