chiefly on the spoken word. And in fact the latter is the sole force capable of producing really great revolutions of sentiment, for reasons which are psychological.
An orator receives continuous guidance from his audience, enabling him to correct his lecture, since he can measure all the time on the countenances of his hearers the extent to which they are successful in following his arguments intelligently, and whether his words are producing the effect he desires, whereas the writer has no acquaintance with his readers. Hence he is unable to prepare his sentences with a view to addressing a definite crowd of people, sitting in front of his eyes, but he is obliged to argue in general terms.
Supposing that an orator observes that his hearers do not understand him, he will make his explanation so elementary and clear that every single one must take it in ; if he feels that they are incapable of follow¬ ing him, he will build up his ideas carefully and slowly until the weakest member has caught up ; again, when once he senses that they seem not to be convinced that he is correct in his argument, he will repeat them over and over again with fresh illustrations and himself state their unspoken objections ; he will continue thus until the last group of the opposition show him by their behaviour and play of expression that they have capitu¬ lated to his demonstration of the case.
Not infrequently it is a case of overcoming pre¬ judices which do not come from their understanding but are mainly unconscious and supported by senti¬ ment. It is a thousand times harder to overcome this barrier of instinctive repulsion, sentimental hatred and negative bias than to set straight opinions founded on incorrect or mistaken knowledge. Ignorance and false conceptions may be removed by teaching—obstruction due to sentiment never can. Nothing but an appeal to these hidden forces can succeed here ; it is nearly impossible for a writer ; hardly anyone but an orator can hope to do so.