"It belongs," says Schlegel, "to the general philosophical theory of poetry and the other fine arts, to establish the fundamental laws of the beautiful. Ordinarily, men entertain a very erroneous notion of Criticism, and understand by it nothing more than a certain shrewdness in detecting and exposing the faults of a work of art." In the search for the beautiful, he continues, "everything must be traced up to the root of human nature. Art cannot exist without nature, and man can give nothing to his fellow men but himself. The groundwork of human nature is everywhere the same; but in our investigations we may observe, that throughout the whole range of nature there is no elementary power so simple, but that it is capable of dividing and diverging into opposite directions. The whole play of vital motion hinges on harmony and contrast."*

It would be treason to truth, an affectation of philanthropy, systematically to conceal primary errors, or gloss over influential faults. It will ever be the province of Criticism to notice such in the spirit of improvement. But at length the principle has been established in literature, that perfection is better advanced by the applause of excellence than by the eternal descantation on defects. Human nature has been analyzed, and it is found that more is to be gained by appealing to the sentiment of the beautiful than by exciting the horror of deformity. This is now Criticism's admitted canon; demonstrated beyond the power of prejudice to distort, or of willfulness to neglect. This principle is not, or should not be, understood as warranting the reviewer in conniving at error, but only as making his chief province *Dramatic Art and Literature, chap. i.

to be the genial recognition of artistic truth. Criticism still keeps watch and ward in the towers of Truth, that no enemy from the camps of Error shall steal into its dominions; but it is ever anxious to welcome and to admit all followers of Progression, even though they may not exactly possess society's accredited passport.

CHAPTER XX.

DEBATE.

DEBATE is a great advantage, and when you win a sincere and able man to discuss with you, enter upon the exercise with gratitude. Your opponent may be the enemy of your opinions, but he is the friend of your improvement. The more ably he confronts you, the more he serves you, if you have but the wisdom to profit by it. The gods, it is said, have not given to mortals the privilege of seeing themselves as others see them, but by a happy compensation in human affairs it is given to candid friends to supply what fate denies and though candor does not imply infallibility, it always includes instruction; it affords that indispensable light of contrast which enables you to discover the truth if hidden from you, or to display the truth if you possess it.

A good writer, says Godwin, must have that ductility of thought that shall enable him to put himself in the place of his reader, and not suffer him to take it for granted, because he understands himself, that every one who comes to him for information will un

derstand him. He must view his phrases on all sides, and be aware of all the senses of which they are susceptible. But this facility can nowhere be so certainly acquired as in debate, which is evidently a discipline as serviceable to the writer as to the speaker.

All investigation should commence without prepossession and end without dogmatism. Each disputant should be more anxious to explain than to defend his opinion.

As an established truth is that which is generally received after it has been generally examined in a fair field of inquiry, it is evident that though truth may be discovered by research, it can only be established by debate. It is a mistake to suppose that it can be taught absolutely by itself. We learn truth by contrast. It is only when opposed to error that we witness truth's capabilities, and feel its full power.

Oral investigation claims especial attention, because to a great extent it insures that its results shall be carried into practice. The pen develops principles, but it is the tongue that chiefly stimulates to action.

Discussion after public addresses would be of great public value. The discipline, to both speaker and hearers, would be greatly salutary. The argument against it, that it would lead to strife and discord, is the very reason why it should be practiced. Men are very childish intellectually while in that state in which debate must be prohibited. If they be children, train them in the art of debate until they are translated into men.

To admit debate after an address, it is said, enables factious individuals to destroy the effect of what has been said. When unanimity of opinion comes, discussion will fall into disuse; but till it does come,

(and debate alone can bring it) discussion must be borne. It is the fault of the lecturer if any one is able to destroy the effect of his lecture.

As a general rule, discussions, set and accidental, are good. A twofold reality by their means is brought to bear on the public understanding, more exciting than that of any other intellectual agency. An opinion that is worth holding is worth diffusing, and to be diffused it must be thought about; and when men think on true principles they become adherents; but only those adherents are worth having who have thought on both sides, and discussion alone makes them do that well. True, men may read on both sides, but it seldom happens that men who are impressed by one side care to read the other. In discussions they are obliged to hear both sides. If men do read both sides, unless they read a "Discussion," they do not find all the facts on one side specially considered on the other. In a discussion read, unless read at one sitting, the strength of an impression and the clearness of the argument on one side is partly lost before the opponent's side is perused. But in an oral debate, the adaptation of fact to fact is complete as far as it perhaps can be; the pro and con are heard successively, the light of contrast is full and clear, and both sides are weighed at the same time when the eye is sharply fixed on the balance. It matters not whether the disputants argue for victory or truth. If they are intellectual gladiators so much the better. The stronger they are the mightier the battle and the more instructive the conflict. It is said that people come out of such discussions as they go into them; that the same partisans shout or hiss on the same side all through. This is not always true,

and no matter if it is. The work of conviction is often done, though the audience may not show it. They may break your head, and afterward own you were right. Human pride forbids the confession, but change is effected in spite of pride. But if an audience remain the same at night, they will not be the same the next morning. I rather like to contemplate that conviction which is begun in discussion, not ended there. He who hastily changes is to be suspected of weakness or carelessness. The steady and deliberate thinker who takes time to consider is the safest convert.

If you invite opposition do it with circumspection. Never debate for the sake of debating. It lowers the character of debate. The value of free speech is too great to be trifled with. Seek conflict only with sincere men. Concede to your opponent the first word and the last Let him appoint the chairman. Let him speak double time if he desires it. Debate is objected to as an exhibition in which disputants try to surprise, outwit, take advantage of, and discomfit each other. To obviate this objection explain to your opponent the outline of the course you intend to pursue, acquaint him with the books you shall quote, the authorities you shall cite, the propositions you shall endeavor to prove, and the concessions you shall demand. And do this without expecting the same at his hands. He will not now be taken by surprise. He will be prewarned and prearmed. He will have time to prepare, and if the truth is in him it ought to come out.

If you feel that you cannot give all these advantages to your opponent, suspect yourself and suspect your side of the question. Every conscientious and decided man believes his views to be true, and if con