It is better that the audience, when it breaks up, should gather into groups and discuss what the speaker said than to go away saying, "What a delightful speech it was," and yet not remember the things said. Whether the statements made are true or not it does no harm to have them challenged; if some dispute what has been said and others defend the speaker it is certain that thought has been aroused, and thinking leads to truth. That is why freedom of speech is so essential in a republic; it is the only process by which truth can be separated from error and made to stand forth in all its strength. We should, therefore, invite discussion.
While acquaintance with the subject and heartfelt interest in it are the first essentials of convincing speech, there are other qualities that greatly strengthen discourse. First among these I would put clearness of statement. Jefferson declared in the Declaration of Independence that certain truths are self-evident. It is a very conservative statement of an important fact; it could be made stronger: all truth is self-evident. The best service one can render a truth, therefore, is to state it so clearly that it can be understood. This does not mean that every self-evident truth will be immediately accepted because there are many things that interfere with the acceptance of truth.
First, let us consider depth of conviction. Some people take their convictions more seriously than others. In India I heard a missionary speak of another person as having "no opinions—nothing but convictions"; while one of the enemies of Gladstone described him as being the only person he ever knew who "could improvise the convictions of a lifetime." Depth of conviction gives great force to an individual when he is going in the right direction, but he is difficult to change if he is going in the wrong direction. When I visited the Hermitage for the first time they told me of an old coloured man, formerly a slave of Jackson's, who survived his master many years. He was, of course, an object of interest and many questions were asked in regard to Jackson's characteristics. One visitor inquired of him if he thought Andrew Jackson went to heaven. He quickly responded, "If he sot his head that way, he did."
Prejudice also delays the spread of truth. People sometimes brace themselves against arguments. If I may be pardoned a personal illustration I will cite a case of political prejudice that came under my own observation. I was speaking in a town in western Nebraska, an out-of-the-way place that I had seldom visited. A friend heard a man say, "Well, I never heard him and I thought I would come and see what he has to say." And then, with a determined look upon his face he added, "But he will not convince me." Political prejudice is not so hard to overcome as race prejudice and race prejudice is not so deep-seated as religious prejudice; but prejudice of any kind, whether it be personal, political, race, or religious, seriously interferes with the progress of truth.
Narrowness of vision often obstructs acceptance of truth. One must be made to feel interested in the subject before he will listen to that which is said about it. Aristotle has suggested a means by which each one can measure himself. "If he is interested in himself only he is very small; if he is interested in his family he is larger; if he is interested in his community he is larger still." Thus he grows in size as his sympathies expand—the largest person being the one whose heart takes in the whole world. In proportion as we can enlarge the horizon of the hearer we can increase the number of subjects to which he will give attention. The minister has an advantage in that he deals with the one subject about which all mankind thinks. The soul yearns for God: it is man's highest aspiration and his most enduring concern. When one's heart is changed—when he is born again—he listens to, understands and accepts arguments that he rejected before.
Selfish interest is one of the most common obstructions to the advance of truth. Very often this difficulty can be overcome by showing that the party is mistaken as to the effect of the proposed measure upon his interests. Fortunately in matters of government a large majority of the people have interests on the same side and the real task is to make this plain. Where there is a real opposing interest, argument is of little use unless it can be shown that the public welfare outweighs the personal interest—that is, that a public interest is large enough to swallow up the interest that is private and personal.
Whenever one refuses to admit such a self-evident truth, for instance, as that it is wrong to steal, don't argue with him—search him; the reason may be found in his pocket.
Next to clearness of statement, I would put conciseness—the condensing of much into a few words. This is a great asset to a speaker. The moulder of public opinion does not manufacture opinion; he simply puts it into form so that it can be remembered and repeated; just as my father used bullet-moulds to make bullets when he was about to go squirrel hunting. The moulds did not create the lead, they simply put it into effective form. Jefferson was the greatest moulder of public opinion in the early days of this country. He did not create Democratic sentiment; he simply took the aspirations that had nestled in the hearts of men from time immemorial and put them into appropriate and epigrammatic language, so that the nation thought his thoughts after him, as the world is now doing. The proverbs of Solomon are priceless for the same reason; they are full of wisdom—wisdom so expressed that it can be easily comprehended.
When I was a boy my father would call me in from work a little before noon, read to me from Proverbs and comment on the sayings of the Wise Man. After his death (when I was twenty) I recalled his fondness for Proverbs and read the thirty-one chapters through each month for a year. I was increasingly impressed with their beauty and strength. I have used many of them in speeches. The one I have most frequently used in the advocacy of reforms reads: "A prudent man foreseeth the evil and hideth himself; but the simple pass on, and are punished."
I have often used a story to illustrate how much can be said in a few words. A man said to another, "Do you drink?" The man to whom the question was addressed, replied rather indignantly, "That is my business, sir." "Have you any other business?" asked the first man. The story is not only valuable as an illustration of brevity but it has a moral side; if a man drinks much he soon has no other business.