There remains, however, one farther move, in itself as defensible, and as much fraught with advantage as the two others.  The resolution and the amendments being in the hands of the members of a body, together with the speeches in support of each, any member might be at liberty to send in, also for circulation in print, whatever remarks would constitute his speech in the debate, thereby making a still greater saving of the time of the body.  This would, no doubt, be felt as the greatest innovation of all, being tantamount to the extinction of oral debate; there being then nothing left but the replies of the movers.  We need not, however, go the length of compulsion; while a certain number would choose to print at once, the others could still, if they chose, abide by the old plan of oral address.  One can easily surmise that these last would need to justify their choice by conspicuous merit; an assembly, having in print so many speeches already, would not be in a mood to listen to others of indifferent quality.

[THE MAGIC OF ORATORY NOT DONE AWAY WITH.]

Such a wholesale transfer of living speech to the silent perusal of the printed page, if seriously proposed in any assembly, would lead to a vehement defence of the power of spoken oratory.  We should be told of the miraculous sway of the human voice, of the way that Whitfield entranced Hume and emptied Franklin’s purse; while, most certainly, neither of these two would ever have perused one of his printed sermons.  And, if the reply were that Whitfield was not a legislator, we should be met by the speeches of Wilberforce and Canning and Brougham upon slavery, where the thrill of the living voice accelerated the conviction of the audience.  In speaking of the Homeric Assembly, Mr. Gladstone remarks, in answer to Grote’s argument to prove it a political nullity, that the speakers were repeatedly cheered, and that the cheering of an audience contributes to the decision.

Now, I am not insensible to the power of speech, nor to the multitudinous waves of human feeling aroused in the encounters of oratory before a large assembly.  Apart from this excitement, it would often be difficult to get people to go through the drudgery of public meetings.  Any plan that would abolish entirely the dramatic element of legislation would have small chance of being adopted.  It is only when the painful side of debate comes into predominance, that we willingly forego some of its pleasures:  the intolerable weariness, the close air, the late nights, must be counted along with the occasional thrills of delirious excitement.  But as far as regards our great legislative bodies, it will be easy to show that there would still exist, in other forms, an ample scope for living oratory to make up for the deadness that would fall upon the chief assembly.