CHAPTER XI.

THE ORATOR’S LOGIC.

Logic is either one of the most useful or one of the most useless acquisitions of the orator. As taught in the middle ages, with its barbarous jargon of symbols and terms, it can add but little directly to the force or truth of any man’s speech, although even in that form it may, like most other studies, accomplish something in the way of sharpening the critical faculty and strengthening memory and attention. Its definitions, also, are not altogether valueless. But not one student in a thousand will apply its cumbrous rules in shaping his own reasoning, or in judging of the reasoning of others. If the reader has studied logic his own experience may be confidently appealed to. Do you ever, in reading an argument, notice to which figure and mood of the syllogism it conforms? If the argument seems false, do you ever seek to find whether the fault is in negative promises, want of distribution of the middle term, or in the violation of any other technical rule of logic? The mind has a much more direct and summary mode for disposing of unsatisfactory arguments.

But the principles of logic are few and simple, and when divested of all technicality, are of universal application. We will venture to point out some that may be of especial service to the speaker:

1st. Clear definition. The speaker should know the meaning of his subject and of all the important terms used in connection with it. This knowledge he should convey to his hearers in the most clear and striking manner that his own powers will permit. To have an audience misunderstand the speaker so far that while he was talking of one thing they are understanding something totally different (even if known by the same name) would be a grave logical fault. Exact and comprehensive definition, often enlivened and simplified by similes or anecdotes, will prevent such danger.

2d. Exact and comprehensive division of a subject is scarcely less important than clear definition. This is of equal value in studying a subject and in presenting it to an audience. If we wished to speak or learn about the ocean, one of the first facts to be dealt with would be its division into five parts—Atlantic, Pacific, etc. A good principle of division should always be selected and faithfully applied. Then as many subdivisions may be added as naturally follow from the application of another good principle of division. Thus, astronomy may be first defined as “the science of the stars.” Then it can be divided into planetary and stellar astronomy. The former may be subdivided into descriptions of the individual planets and other bodies in the solar system; the latter into the classes of objects found among the fixed stars. All of this is not a rhetorical or oratorical device, but has its foundation in mental laws; in other words, it is logical.

3d. Classification lies at the foundation of many of the sciences, and is a process of the highest importance in every domain of knowledge. In no other manner can the vast multitude of facts discovered by millions of observing eyes be preserved and made useful. The orator must also classify his general knowledge, and that special part of it which he intends to use for a speech. All his proofs, appeals, illustrative facts, and even his digressions should be arranged according to those natural bonds of congruity which constitute the basis of all classification.

But in what way can the person who is ignorant of technical logic make a harmonious classification? It will not add much to his ability to tell him that two processes—abstraction and generalization—are the basis of all true classification. It is simpler and means the same to say that things should be classed together which agree in some permanent and fundamental quality. Thus a vast number of animals of the most varied sizes, shapes, and powers, agree in having backbones and are therefore put into a class and called _vertebrates_. The study of agreements and similarities in things the most diverse is exceedingly profitable to the orator in many different ways. It affords inexhaustible material for illustrations—“those windows of speech.” The difference between the likeness upon which classification and illustrations are based is about as follows: The similarities which give rise to scientific classes are very important and essential; those from which illustrations spring may be slight and superficial.

These three processes are of more importance to the orator than any others embraced in logic. There is nothing “dry” or “repulsive” about them—terms quite frequently applied to discourses which turn aside from their own direct purpose to display the mere machinery of reasoning. By division a distinct impression is made of each part of a subject; by definition all misunderstandings are cleared away and attention fixed upon the very points at issue; by classification all thoughts find their proper places and are so gathered up into general ideas and joined with other familiar thoughts, by way of illustration, that they may easily be remembered and applied.

But how about the syllogism which logical treatises devote so much time to explaining? Its many varieties and endless transformations wrought out by acute minds from the time of Aristotle to the present, are curious and interesting, but they are not specially available for a speaker. Yet, since they rest upon a few easily understood principles, we will refer to the most obvious.

If two things each resemble a third it is certain that they also resemble each other. If one thing equals a second, but does not equal a third, then the second and third do not equal each other.

In the syllogism two comparisons are made and the resulting agreement or disagreement is expressed in the conclusion. Thus:

Corrupt men are bad citizens. Men buying or selling votes are corrupt men. Therefore, men buying or selling votes are bad citizens.

Here the class of corrupt men agrees with the class of bad citizens; it also agrees with the class who buy or sell votes; now, as it agrees with each of the two classes, it is certain that those two classes also agree with each other. This is the plain form of the syllogism.

The following is an instance of disagreement:

Good citizens are patriotic men. Traitors are not patriotic. Therefore, traitors are not good citizens.

When an agreement and disagreement are thus stated in the first and second lines, the result stated in the third line must be a disagreement. But if the first and second lines both state disagreements no result can be drawn, for there is more than one mode of disagreement. This may be illustrated by the case of two witnesses to the same circumstance. If both tell the truth their stories will agree; if one tells the truth and the other does not, their stories disagree; but if neither tells the truth, their stories may or may not agree—that is, they may tell the same falsehood or different kinds of falsehood.

In the syllogism it is necessary to see that the comparisons made are real and not fictitious. False logic or fallacies arise where a comparison seems to be made which is not real. Part of one thing or class may be compared with the whole of another, and then an agreement affirmed or denied for the whole of the two things or classes, and this fatal fault in reasoning may be very carefully concealed. It can usually be detected by turning around the sentence in which the defective comparison is made. Thus:

Men are animals. Horses are animals. Therefore, men are horses.

This seems to be a perfectly fair specimen of correct syllogisms. But in the first line the class “men” is compared with only a part of the class “animals,” and in the second line the whole of the class “horses” is compared with another part of the class “animals,” and as the comparison is not restricted to the same objects no statement of agreement or disagreement can be made. We detect the insufficiency of the comparison by saying, it is true that all men are animals, but not true that all animals are men.

Another mode of making a seeming comparison without the reality is by using words in unlike senses. Thus:

All light bodies dispel darkness. A bag of feathers is a light body. Therefore, a bag of feathers will dispel darkness.

To guard against this and all similar fallacies it is only necessary to notice whether the comparison is fair and complete. Practice will give great expertness in doing this, even when the comparison is implied rather than expressed.

Indeed, the greater part of reasoning lies outside the range of formal logic. The orator who would reduce each argument to a syllogistic form would be considered a clown endeavoring to make sport of, or for his audience. A statement is often made which depends for its validity upon a comparison or even a series of comparisons either flashing through the mind at the moment, or recalled as having previously been made. To this there can be no objection, provided such comparisons are obvious and indisputable. If a chain of reasoning rests upon the understanding that all men desire to be happy, it will be just as forcible as if that truism were stated or proved. Anything which an audience will accept without question is only weakened by the processes of proof. Something must be taken for granted in all kinds of argument, and the wider the domain of such assumptions can be fairly made the better for the interest and effectiveness of the arguments which follow.

A syllogism in which one of the essential parts is left to be supplied in the mind is called an _enthymeme_, and is the most common of all forms of reasoning. Whenever we state a fact, and adduce a reason for that fact, it takes this form. As an instance, we may give the beatitudes in the fifth chapter of St. Matthew. In each we have a declaration made and a reason given for that declaration, but that reason would have no necessary validity were it not for a well-understood principle, upon which, in each case, it is founded. When it is said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” we mentally add, or concede even without thinking it, “_whoever has the kingdom of heaven is blessed_.”

The same declaration may be put in logical form, thus:

Whoever possesses the kingdom of heaven is blessed. The poor in spirit possess the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, they are blessed.

It will be noticed that in all the beatitudes the syllogism is inverted, the conclusion coming first (which also is placed in an inverted form), while the major premise is left to be mentally supplied.

Another instance may be given of this most common of all the syllogistic forms—the only one of which the orator makes very frequent use.

It is stated, “Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God;” the reader mentally supplies, “and those who see God are blessed.”

Or in syllogistic form:

Those who see God are blessed. The pure in heart see God. Therefore, the pure in heart are blessed.

The great frequency of the _enthymeme_ is explained by the very nature of reasoning, which—at least in the case of the true orator—ever proceeds from the known to the unknown. One of our propositions should either be self-evident or tacitly conceded; it need not therefore be expressed. The other must be brought out fully and proved by appropriate evidence, and from these two foundations we draw out the conclusion, or, what is only another way of accomplishing the same purpose, we state the conclusion and then give a reason for it, which itself rests upon another reason mentally supplied. We may test the correctness of the process by inquiring if the unexpressed reason be of the nature of a necessary, or at least of a generally received, truth; then, if the expressed reason is supported by impregnable evidence (which in the case of the beatitudes is the authority of Teacher Himself); and finally, if the conclusion inevitably results from the union of the two preceding parts.

Much might be said of fallacies and their various forms, but the student who has not time to pursue a full course of logic would find little profit in such a brief sketch as is here possible. It will be enough to point out that all false reasoning involves a violation of some logical rules, the simplest and most useful of which we have already pointed out. The orator who carefully defines his terms, who watches every comparison to see if it is real and not merely pretended, who refuses to accept a plausible statement for a universal truth, who notices what an argument takes for granted as carefully as what it states, will not be likely to commit glaring errors himself, or to be led into them by others.

In controversy a most important logical direction may be given. Strive to ascertain just the standpoint of the audience in regard to your subject. Every speaker has much in common with his hearers, and if he would convince or persuade them he must start from that common position.

In doing this there is no compromise of principle. It is simply leaving out of view points of difference until points of agreement are explored. From these an argument, as strong as logic can make it, should lead to the conclusion either in thought or action to which you wish your audience conducted. The eminent Methodist missionary, Rev. Wm. Taylor, in speaking to the heathen of Africa, used first to dwell upon those things in their belief which were common with his own, giving them credit for trying to worship the true God as well as they could, and then declaring that he came to them with a fuller revelation from the same source. In this way he persuaded thousands to accept his guidance and believe the Bible, who would have been utterly repelled if he had first attacked their superstitions, and tried to show that they were wrong in everything. In the same manner every masterly persuader of men must proceed. Seeking out all that he regards as true in their opinions and beliefs, he will waste no time in proving what they already believe, or in persuading them to do what they are already engaged in, but will show them other things which necessarily follow from what they already admit. St. Paul, on Mars’ Hill, got a great logical advantage by his reference to the Unknown God, and from this starting place he worked his way carefully to the new truth which he had to declare. A political orator may simply abuse the opposite party; but he makes no converts and wins no enduring laurels by that method. If he will strive to understand the position of his opponents and then from the great principles regarding government, which all parties hold in common, proceed to show that the side he advocates carries out those principles to their legitimate result, he may change votes, and will be sought for where the empty declamation of one who pursues the opposite course would be felt as a hindrance rather than a help. “What do you do when you have no case at all?” said one lawyer to another. “Oh!” was the reply, “I abuse the opposite counsel.” This was only a mode of covering a retreat, and may have answered that purpose well enough after the battle had been lost; but as long as there is any hope of convincing the judge or winning the jury, such abuse is worse than useless. The advocate should not, however, take his opponent’s view of the subject at issue as the groundwork of his argument, but that which he believes the jury to entertain. Success in this instance is not won by convincing an opponent, but by bringing over to his views that body of men in the jury-box who are supposed to be impartial, but who always have their mode of viewing any given subject—a mode which an ingenious and observant advocate will not be slow to discover.

There are three phases of any controverted question which the orator who will discuss it successfully needs to study. He should know and estimate justly all that a determined opponent of his own view can advance. Nothing is gained by failing to appreciate the strength and plausibility of an adversary’s position. Complete justice to an enemy is often the first step to complete victory over him. Then the position of that part of an audience—possibly few in numbers, but from the logical standpoint exceedingly important—who are in suspense, and as ready to fall to one side as the other, ought to be fully weighed. The more perfectly intellectual sympathy exists between them and the orator, the more likely is he to bring them over to his own party. And this is the great object to be aimed at. Pronounced opponents are not often converted. “A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.” The attention directed to them is really for the sake of the doubtful class who may, unless resistance is offered, be won over by their efforts.

Some attention may also properly be given by the speaker to confirming his own party by showing them the solid grounds upon which their opinions rest. But usually the same arguments which are likely to decide the wavering will best accomplish this purpose also. Beginning with a simple but clearly defined statement of those principles or facts upon which he intends to base his arguments, and about which no difference of opinion is possible, he shows clearly that the opinions he and his friends hold must follow from the grounds already conceded. This should be set forth as the establishment of positive truth rather than as the refutation of any errors; then, when the waverers have been convinced and his own party strongly confirmed, he may, with advantage, show the weakness and absurdity of the position of those who hold opposed views. Such a course pursued by an able reasoner who really has truth on his side, which he thoroughly understands, will seldom fail to win all whose minds are open to conviction.

It is to these broad principles and to the careful study of all aspects of the questions he has to treat, rather than to the refinements of mediæval logic, that we would direct the orator’s attention. Whoever will follow the course prescribed in preceding chapters, carefully arranging the outline of his address, mastering all his material, and speaking the language of his own convictions, will be truly logical, and such logic carried to the highest degree will take nothing from any other grace either of form or substance that belongs to oratory.