his cattle to a "non-bovine" State where they would inevitably spread disease.

The kind of legislation England requires particularly is a system of insurance such as that adopted by the German State Invalidity Insurance Companies. At present, consumptives are practically prohibited from all forms of insurance, and considering that tuberculosis is really a preventable disease some practical scheme should be adopted to prevent it. In Germany when a labourer or servant enters upon any business he is compelled to insure against tuberculosis, and should he at any period betray symptoms of the disease, he is at once sent to the State sanatorium. This, to my mind, is a very sensible method of dealing with the consumption problem, for it seizes the disease when it most readily lends itself to treatment, and moreover causes less expense. Dr. Weicker, of Goerbersdorf, to whom many patients are sent, says that the percentage of such cures are far in excess of those effected in private patients; indeed his latest returns show a percentage of so established cures with an average of only 76 days' sojourn at the sanatorium. Thus, it will be seen, the Government sends patients to the sanatorium at a much earlier and more favourable period than the family physician, In 1879, thirty-seven of these Government insurance companies collectively assisted 4480 consumptives, of whom 4432 were sent to the subsidised sanatoria. In the same year these companies invested altogether 1,300,000 marks for consumptives, and for 1898 a fund of three to four millions has been destined for that purpose.

Here is work for the philanthropist, for the legislator, if not for the speculator. King Edward is not without interest in the matter, and the whole medical faculty is striving with heart and soul to battle with this scourge of civilisation. It is no use waiting for anti-tuberculin and magic chemical compounds to rid us of the plague in a few weeks. Koch was a failure,1 but Walther has been a success. We must not wait for the consumptive to report himself, but, if even for the protection of the species, save him from himself. In certain cases of poisoning our first duty is to keep the patient awake. This is what we must do to the consumptive-keep him alive to the importance of taking measures to stamp out the disease before he grows too weak to be careful, and too morbid to be otherwise than despondent.

HAROLD R. WHITE.

1 This article having been written prior to the Tuberculosis Congress, this expression must not be taken in connection with Dr. Koch's new theory regarding the transmission of bovine tuberculosis to man.

ORATORY.

SINCE the time when masses of men were first influenced by the speech of their fellows oratory has necessarily been a subject of interest and inquiry. At the present day, when the increase of our local representative bodies and the growth of education have made public speaking more common among both men and women than ever before, an attempt to integrate our thoughts, experiences and observations regarding it ought not to be less interesting, or less fruitful, than in the past. It is a subject, however, which may not unnaturally be approached with some trepidation, seeing that it has been regarded as a difficult one by some of the greatest orators of the past. Considering the great diversity of manner among the ablest speakers," says Cicero in his de Oratore, "how exceedingly difficult must it be to determine which is the best, and give a finished model of eloquence? This, however, . . . I shall attempt not so much from any hopes of succeeding as from a strong inclination to make the trial."

The evolution of oratory may be regarded as a branch of natural history. It involves such questions as how speech, as the great characteristic by which man is distinguished from brutes, has become associated with the varied movements and gestures by which our emotions are expressed, how is it that certain words and phrases accompany certain emotional expressions, what is the physiological effect produced on the hearer by these words and expressions? That the pleasure or distaste experienced by an audience as the result of a speech that is pleasing or the reverse has some physiological basis in the actual physical changes taking place in the organs and muscles of the body there can be no doubt, though as to what they are we may be wholly ignorant. The association of certain sounds. with certain emotions is perhaps most strikingly seen in those lower animals which are, generally speaking, mute or comparatively so. Many animals emit sounds only under extreme emotion, as when in great pain or fear. Then their cries of agony or fright are what, when speaking of our own kind, we call heartrending, and convey to the most untutored ear a distinct and painful sensation of the emotions of the animal. This is an interesting fact, because the most powerful oratory is that which is able to arouse corresponding sensations in an audience.

What is oratory? Is it an entity incapable of analysis? On first thoughts one is disposed to say no, for there is every gradation from the simplest speech up to the most elaborate oration. But this assumes that oratory must necessarily be elaborate speech, which we know well is not the case, for among savage races endowed only with simple language and a very restricted vocabulary, oratory of a high order, if judged by its power to arouse the emotions and stir the passions of an audience and influence its conduct, is found.

I venture to lay down the fundamental proposition that true oratory is not capable of analysis for the simple reason that it must be unpremeditated. It is commonplace that in conversation the remarks and statements which are unpremeditated are those which tell, impress the hearer, carry conviction and have a freshness which is lacking in those carefully prepared beforehand. Both in conversation and in public speech spontaneity, freshness, truthfulness, forcefulness characterise the unpremeditated deliverance. Such unpremeditated utterances may be partially analysed afterwards and their characteristics to some extent discovered and noted down. And with this help it is no doubt possible to build up and prepare speech which shall have the same characteristics as, and when uttered simulate, that which is unpremeditated. And in this the study of oratory amongst the ancients partly consisted. Yet such an artificial product will always fail to reach the highest form of oratory. In support of this view is the fact, which will hardly be disputed, that the orator's success largely depends on his losing his self-consciousness. When I use the word "unpremeditated" it does not of course apply to the knowledge, information, thoughts and ideas of the orator, but to the language, the words and phraseology in which they are clothed and conveyed. And it does not affect the importance and benefit to the orator of his knowledge and study of language, and all other qualifications resulting from training, education and culture. Probably the younger Pitt stands pre-eminent in exhibiting the highest oratorical gifts at a phenomenally early age. Of his speeches Lord Stanhope says, "he did not prepare the structure or the wording of his sentences, far less write them down beforehand. The statement of his friends upon this point is much confirmed by his notes, as scattered amongst his papers." And his biographer proceeds to give examples of such notes, remarkable for their brevity; documents of surpassing interest to any one who has ever had to make speeches of any length, political or otherwise.

The effectiveness of unpremeditated utterance is sometimes very strikingly seen when least expected, as when a person is suddenly and unexpectedly called upon to speak, and on the spur of the moment expresses in a simple and unconventional manner some

sentiment on which he himself feels strongly, but has no thought of producing any striking effect on the audience. The puritanic revolt in the seventeenth century against fixed prayers, and the even stronger objection of the Quakers to anything even savouring of preparedness, illustrate the belief founded on experience that impromptu speech goes home to the hearts of the listeners in a way that which is prepared is unable to do.

That the highest form of oratory must be unpremeditated is supported by the fact that the greatest orators require an audience, and a sympathetic one, before them to call forth their powers. This is at once suggested by a comparison of their speeches with their literary productions. Had we only the writings of Erskine or Gladstone who would imagine that as orators they had risen to the highest flights of eloquence? Sitting down to compose in the solitude of the closet they were without that stimulus which was essential to call out those powers of weaving language so as to charm the ear and arouse the emotions, which were so conspicuous in the forum, on the platform or in the Senate. From the nature of the case it is obvious that the essential thing here could not have been premeditated, or it could equally well have been written as spoken. Moreover the greatest orators do not, cannot maintain the same high level throughout their speeches. Their highest flights of eloquence burst out every now and then as if under some sudden or passing inspiration, when they rise, as it were, for a time above the ordinary level of their discourse; and it is especially the character of these outbursts which distinguishes the great orator, moments often of supreme loss of self-consciousness when everything is forgotten in the subject or in the end the speaker desires to attain. Eloquence," says Cicero, "blazes forth only now and then like a transient gleam, more frequently in some orators than in others." "Before a scanty audience," says Tacitus, "the orator's spirit droops, and the dulness of the scene damps the power of genius."

On the other hand, the most eloquent essay carefully prepared beforehand, when delivered by one wanting the orator's gifts may as a speech be an utter failure. Burke is perhaps the most striking example of this. He simply drove everybody away. This is well and amusingly described by Lord Erskine to the American ambassador, Mr. Rush, who who had asked him about Burke's delivery:

"It was execrable," said he. "I was in the House of Commons when he made his great speech on American conciliation, the greatest he ever made. He drove everybody away. I wanted to go out with the rest, but was near him and afraid to get up; so I squeezed myself down and crawled under the benches, like a dog, until I got to the door without his seeing me, rejoicing in my escape. Next day I went to the Isle of Wight. When the speech followed me there I read it over and over again. I

could hardly think of anything else. I carried it with me and thumbed it until it got like wadding for my gun.'

Moreover, the orator will be affected more or less by his audience, and this he cannot know with certainty beforehand. This was evidently in the mind of Cicero when he said, "The taste of the audience has always governed and directed the eloquence of the speaker, for all who wish to be applauded consult the character and inclinations of those who hear them, and carefully form and accommodate themselves to their particular humours and dispositions." The last sentiment of the celebrated Roman orator is one to which we may perhaps demur: it was no doubt an expression of that habit too common in the Roman forum, of studying too slavishly to conciliate the Bench. And this passage reminds me of a remark sometimes made, viz., that "the greatest orators can raise their audience to their own level." With limitations this is doubtless true. A speaker is no orator who ignores the nature and condition, the fundamental tastes, ideas, and even prejudices of his audience. The true orator instinctively discovers what these are, discovers the nature of the instrument before him, and then knows how he should play upon it. As long as he does not run counter to some fundamental feeling in his audience he can mould it to his will. He does this by gaining and holding their attention. When this is thoroughly done what does it mean? Simply that all ideas and trains of thought other than those presented by the orator are excluded, and the delighted listeners follow the speaker with ease, without effort, and are in a state of mind ready to hear, comprehend, and accept the views he eloquently presents to them. In this way many

a one in the audience is literally carried away, and for the moment may believe what on cooler consideration afterwards his judgment will perhaps not permit him to accept.

It is in the presentation of noble sentiments, lofty ideals, and those simple deep instincts common to all humanity that the raising an audience to his own level is best attained: and the greatest orators alone possess the power of doing it. However clever, however learned, however facile in speech a man may be, unless he is endowed with a rich imagination and with the broadest and deepest sympathies he can never attain to this supreme oratorical eminence. But these great qualities even when accompanied by a meagre education may endow a speaker with a glowing eloquence which warms the hearts and inspires the minds of his hearers-witness the covenanter on the hillside, the miner in the wayside bethel, the ouvrier at a socialist meeting. It goes without saying, much of this depends on the subject matter of the speech. One subject may chill the

1 I confess to some difficulty in following this anecdote, which is referred to by Lord Campbell and by Mr. John Morley, because, whilst this speech of Burke's was delivered in 1775, Erskine did not enter the House of Commons until 1783. The reference must have been to some later speech of Burke's.