I 
 
 i
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES

 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 LORD RIDDELL
 
 [Photo by Underwood dt Underwood 
 
 I.OK!) Knil'I I.t.
 
 SOME THINGS 
 THAT MATTER 
 
 BY 
 
 LORD RIDDELL 
 
 'Knowledge is power." 
 
 LORD BACON 
 
 NEW XSflr YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1922, 
 BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 
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 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER. I 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
 
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 R 
 4035 
 R43s 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 It has been suggested that I should reproduce 
 in more permanent form a series of articles which 
 
 s* I wrote in John o' London's Weekly. Hence this 
 book. The later chapters were written in order to 
 
 9 give effect to a suggestion made by Lord Morley 
 when speaking at Manchester about fifty years ago, 
 that the best way to learn to reason would be to 
 study the methods adopted in the Law Courts. In 
 these chapters, therefore, I have attempted to 
 describe in popular terms the laws of evidence and, 
 in addition, briefly to outline the laws of thought. 
 
 The Author 
 March, 1922. 
 
 c 
 
 C 
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 GO 

 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAOB 
 
 I How to Concentrate ....... 11 
 
 II How to Observe . 25 
 
 III How to Read 39 
 
 IV The Art of Public Speaking 55 
 
 V Maxims for Speakers 71 
 
 VI The Use of the Dictionary 85 
 
 VII The Fly- Wheel of Civilization: Importance 
 
 of Habit 93 
 
 VIII How to Think 103 
 
 IX How to Judge Things 113 
 
 X Circumstantial Evidence 123 
 
 XI Facts and Inferences 135 
 
 XII Hearsay and What is Relevant .... 147 
 
 XIII How to Find Things Out 155 
 
 XIV The Laws of Thought 165 
 
 XV Legal Maxims 179 
 
 XVI The Moral Duty of Belief . ..: •> . ,.. 191
 
 I: HOW TO CONCENTRATE
 
 SOME THINGS 
 THAT MATTER 
 
 HOW TO CONCENTRATE 
 
 Concentration is the secret of success. 
 — Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
 Observation, concentration, and memory are 
 closely allied. Interest is the basis of all three. 
 
 If I were to show you a letter, stating that some 
 one had left you twenty thousand pounds, or that 
 your dearest friend had died, or that your best 
 girl had married another, in a flash you would ab- 
 sorb the information, and in after years the details 
 of the incident would remain stamped upon your 
 mind. You would remember not only what the 
 letter said, but what I said, what you said, and 
 where the interview took place. The reason is ob- 
 vious. The communication would relate to a sub- 
 ject of vital interest. 
 
 To put the matter in another way, the brain is 
 like a photographic plate. If there is a suitable 
 light, it vividly records. If the light is dim or from 
 
 [ii]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 the wrong angle, the result is an imperfect picture. 
 The inquirer will very likely say, "Life does not 
 consist of receiving letters of the kind indicated. 
 Dramatic incidents are few and far between in the 
 lives of most of us. What is the use of trying to 
 base your conduct on deductions drawn from such 
 rare occurrences? What I want to know is how 
 to learn to concentrate on the ordinary affairs of 
 life. Can the art of concentration be acquired?" 
 
 As they say in the House of Commons, the an- 
 swer is in the affirmative. Given a certain amount 
 of discipline and repetition, the art of concentration 
 for a particular object can undoubtedly be ac- 
 quired. Most Britons are slow to absorb but ten- 
 acious of holding what they get. I am not re- 
 ferring to money, but to ideas. Take an example. 
 A young man enters a merchant's office; a typical 
 young Englishman — I will say nothing about the 
 Scottish and Welsh, who require a different classi- 
 fication. tjThe Scotsman is a born observer and logi- 
 cian—the outcome of generations of theological 
 controversy. The Welshman has imagination and 
 the advantage of village life to bring out the best 
 that is in him for certain purposes. At root the 
 Welsh are a nation of poets, tempered with the 
 shop-keeping instinct. 
 
 Let us come back to the English — the backbone 
 
 of the British race — the nation that has thrown up 
 
 as many geniuses as perhaps any other race in the 
 
 world, not excepting the Greeks, the Romans, and 
 
 [12]
 
 HOW TO CONCENTRATE 
 
 the French. Let us take the typical English boy 
 who goes into a merchant's office — not very well 
 educated, with little general information, and with 
 his mind chiefly directed to game. Watch him be- 
 ing put through the mill, and see him again twenty 
 years hence. You will find him a shrewd, keen man 
 of business, with a profound knowledge of his call- 
 ing, but probably with little accurate knowledge 
 about anything else, and full of all sorts of odd 
 prejudices — an observant man where his own busi- 
 ness is concerned. If he is in the woollen trade he 
 knows at once the value of the suit you are wearing; 
 he knows where the cloth came from and what it 
 is made of. But note: it is easier to learn to con- 
 centrate automatically — a slow process — like the 
 young man in the office, than to flog yourself into 
 concentrating on a particular subject. But this 
 can be done by perseverance and taking trouble. 
 
 Most of us can concentrate easily on a definite 
 mechanical action — the shifting of a piece of furni- 
 ture, for example — or upon some definite task, such 
 as writing a letter or learning a piece of verse. The 
 difficulty arises when we have to concentrate upon 
 things which produce no immediate and definite re- 
 sult, such as reading a book or a complicated docu- 
 ment. We may think we understand it. We may 
 believe that the task has been well done. There 
 is nothing to show that we have not been concen- 
 trating and that we have imperfectly absorbed the 
 
 contents. 
 
 [13]
 
 J 
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 On a larger scale, take the ease of two profes- 
 sional men. One has the power of concentration 
 in a more marked degree than the other. One suc- 
 ceeds and the other fails. The failure does not 
 perceive that he is missing his mark owing to defi- 
 cient concentration. The successful man wears the 
 other down because day in and day out he does his 
 work just a shade better than the other. No great 
 success can be achieved without concentration of 
 two kinds — first, concentration on the main pro- 
 ject, and, second, concentration on its details. All 
 the great people of the world, in politics, commerce, 
 or professional work, make everything subordinate 
 to the main purposes of their lives, and when they 
 are at work display extraordinary powers of con- 
 centration. J 
 
 The success of some men bewilders those around 
 them because they never seem to work, or to work 
 for any length of time. Their secret is their power 
 to concentrate, and thus to obtain the maximum of 
 result with the minimum of apparent effort. "Con- 
 centration," says Emerson, "is the secret of suc- 
 cess in politics, in war, in trade, in short in all the 
 management of human affairs." 
 
 Take the lawyer in large practice. He works 
 like a galley-slave, and allows nothing to interfere 
 with the performance of his duties. He is up early 
 and late, rarely dines out, and sees but little of his 
 family. He flies from one Law Court to another 
 and from one class of case to another. Every night
 
 HOW TO CONCENTRATE 
 
 he has to read perhaps half a dozen briefs, each deal- 
 ing with a different subject. But he has learnt to 
 concentrate because concentration is essential to 
 the conduct of his work. For the time being his 
 mind is absolutely bent on the case in hand. 
 
 The habit of concentration grows. That is one 
 advantage of education. The well-educated man 
 is taught to concentrate when he is young. He is 
 taught to assimilate uninteresting subjects. The 
 less educated learn to concentrate, so to speak, by 
 rule of thumb. . Eventually concentration in any 
 particular direction becomes automatic. That won- 
 derful friend, the sub-conscious mind, begins to 
 work. When you tie up your shoe-laces apparently 
 you are not paying much attention to the opera- 
 tion, but in fact you are. You are concentrating 
 unconsciously. The same things applies to a law- 
 yer cross-examining a witness. He does not have 
 to say to himself, "Now, pay attention ! Take care 
 what you are doing or you may make a horrible 
 blunder!" Subconsciously he brings all his guns 
 to bear, and makes his mind work as hard as it 
 can in order to extract — or obscure — the truth. 
 
 As William James says in his interesting little 
 book, "Talks to Teachers on Psychology": — 
 
 "The great end of all education is to make our 
 nervous system our ally instead of our enemy. For 
 this we must make automatic and habitual, as early 
 as possible, as many useful actions as we can, and 
 
 [15]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 as carefully guard against the growing into ways 
 that are likely to be disadvantageous." 
 
 Concentration is a habit of mind. Men are not 
 born equal in their power of concentration any 
 more than in their power of playing billiards. But 
 up to a point every one can improve his powers in 
 every direction. This is an age of specialists. Re- 
 member that concentration is necessary not only 
 to do things, but to select what to do. In these 
 days no one can achieve great distinction unless 
 he concentrates on some one thing. Wisely Sidney 
 Smith said: "Have the courage to be ignorant 
 of a great number of things, in order to avoid the 
 calamity of being ignorant of everything," while 
 Browning teaches, with even more truth, "Who 
 keeps one end in view makes all things serve." Con- 
 centration, indeed, is the great liberator. It yields 
 large dividends of leisure. Hazlitt, in his admir- 
 able essay "On Application to Study," says: "It 
 is wonderful how much is done in a short space, 
 provided we set about it properly, and give our 
 minds wholly to it. Let any one devote himself to 
 any art or science ever so strenuously and he will 
 still have leisure to make considerable progress in 
 half a dozen other acquirements." He goes on to 
 show how this explains the versatility, or rather the 
 multi-capacity, of men like Leonardo da Vinci and 
 Michael Angelo. If you want to make your work 
 easy, take an interest in it. Extend your interests, 
 but do not extend them too far. It is wonderful 
 [16]
 
 HOW TO CONCENTRATE 
 
 how interest grows by patient continuous applica- 
 tion. When interest is aroused, concentration fol- 
 lows. 
 
 Some time ago I knew a man who had never in 
 his life been to sea. By chance he drifted into the 
 chambers of an Admiralty lawyer and began to look 
 through his briefs. He had no interest in the sub- 
 ject, and knew nothing about naval terms. But 
 gradually he became interested. He began to con- 
 centrate, and ultimately ended up as one of the great- 
 est Admiralty lawyers of his day with an enormous 
 practice. I said to one of the highest authorities in 
 the world on a highly technical scientific subject, 
 "How did you become so famous? When you were 
 young were you fond of this sort of thing?" "No," 
 he said, "but I had a scientific bent and I had to 
 earn my living. I tumbled into this subject. It 
 was very trying at first, but I came to like it, and 
 the more I liked it the better I did it. . You can- 
 not really concentrate on anything unles you are 
 interested in it.? Now I do it for pleasure. It 
 comes easy. It is always in my mind, more or 
 less." In short, practice is the best of all instruc- 
 tors. 
 
 There are all sorts of mechanical devices for 
 stimulating concentration. It is not my purpose to 
 endeavour to describe these. For example, certain 
 games of patience are supposed to be effective stim- 
 ulants. I have never tried any of these schemes. If 
 I was not interested in what I had to do, I tried to 
 
 [17]
 
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 become interested in it. \Most pursuits have in them 
 the elements of a game if you only look for them. 
 The illuminating word often shows the way. Most 
 students find law or hook-keeping, for example, 
 dull subjects. But if they are lucky enough to 
 meet some one who describes in an interesting and 
 dramatic fashion the principles involved, and what 
 all these more or less dull details are intended to 
 lead up to, or rather the principles which govern 
 them, the subject assumes a vivid interest. If you 
 were to see the pieces of a jig-saw puzzle lying to- 
 gether in a heap, they would have no interest for 
 you. But if you were told that depicted on the 
 pieces were the parts of a picture which you could 
 make up, then each piece would have for you an ac- 
 tual interest, and you would be keen to put them 
 together. It is the same with law or book-keeping. 
 Because concentration depends on interest it is 
 important to find the key that will make a subject 
 interesting. When I was younger I had for busi- 
 ness purposes to summarise Acts of Parliament and 
 other complicated documents. At first I found this 
 heavy work, but when I had attained the necessary 
 degree of concentration the task became a pleasure. 
 I used to time myself in order to see how quickly 
 I could read and summarise a page. Nowadays, 
 if I have a spare half-hour, I often do this for 
 amusement. It is interesting to take one of the 
 Law Reports in The Times and to see how quickly 
 and briefly you can set forth the facts and the rea- 
 [18]
 
 HOW TO CONCENTRATE 
 
 sons for the decision. If you bend all your mind 
 to the task, and if you are interested in it, you will 
 find that you can produce a really good bit of work 
 in a very short time. But you will not do this 
 unless you are interested in what you are doing. 
 Many successful people tell you that they hate their 
 jobs, and are always anxious to quit them. Yet 
 in order to succeed they have by dint of persever- 
 ance gained the art of concentration on their work. 
 But note : they would work more easily if they were 
 interested in what they were doing. 
 «-- A lack of concentration is due to inattention. 
 [That every one concentrates if he is compelled to 
 do so, is shown by the fact that danger is a great in- 
 centive to concentration. " The merchant who re- 
 ceives a message calling for an urgent answer con- 
 centrates on his reply because he knows that if he 
 neglects to do so he will be a heavy loser. The 
 motor-car driver concentrates on his task because 
 he knows that if he does not do so he will be killed. 
 The soldier concentrates on his drill because he 
 knows that if he does not he will make mistakes 
 and be punished. You are more liable to stray 
 when walking on a wide road than when walking on 
 the edge of a precipice. The difficulty is to con- 
 centrate voluntarily and to acquire the concentra- 
 tion habit of mind. 
 
 But bear in mind that the powers of concentra- 
 tion are injured by undue attention to self. Ex- 
 cessive vanity or self-pity prevents the mind from 
 
 [19]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 applying itself to its task. Emotions of ambition, 
 self-regard, and anxiety will, of course, play their 
 part; but, as William James points out, they should 
 be confined as far as possible to the occasions when 
 you are making your general resolutions and de- 
 ciding on your plan of campaign. Their intrusion 
 into the details of our lives prevents us from con- 
 centrating on the immediate object in view. 
 To quote Burns: 
 
 "If self the wavering balance shake 
 It's rarely right adjusted." 
 
 In conclusion: one of the simplest methods to 
 strengthen concentration is to work out arithmetical 
 sums or mathematical propositions. Quite simple 
 ones will serve the purpose. The addition of a 
 column of figures demands concentrated effort by- 
 most people, but when the task becomes automatic 
 it ceases to serve the purpose. Another and more 
 generally useful method is to read a paragraph in 
 a scientific book, such as Darwin's "Origin of 
 Species," and then to attempt to reproduce the 
 contents in writing — not verbatim but in your own 
 words. When you find that you can do this success- 
 fully you can try to reproduce the contents of a 
 page and later on a chapter. But a task of this 
 sort cannot be performed satisfactorily unless the 
 result of your work is checked by some one upon 
 whose judgment you can rely. Otherwise you 
 may not perceive that you have misunderstood the 
 [20]
 
 HOW TO CONCENTRATE 
 
 author's meaning or overlooked an important fact 
 or argument. 
 
 It must be remembered that concentration is an 
 exhausting mental and physical business for those 
 who are unaccustomed to it. Therefore, to begin 
 with, the strain should not be too prolonged. 
 Attention should be relaxed for a suitable period. 
 In other words the habit should be gradually 
 formed. Brisk vigorous concentration for a quar- 
 ter of an hour on the first day may be gradually 
 expanded into two hours or more at the end of a 
 month. The essence of concentration is that the 
 full powers of the mind should be centred on the 
 task in hand. \A tired mind and body cannot 
 accomplish this to the best advantage, and in the 
 case of children and young persons harm may result 
 from too prolonged efforts. N 
 
 V 
 
 [21]
 
 II: HOW TO OBSERVE
 
 ^ » 
 
 LI WajA
 
 II 
 
 HOW TO OBSERVE 
 
 Appearances to the mind are of four kinds. Things 
 either are what they appear to be or they neither 
 are, nor appear to be; or they are, and do not 
 appear to be, or they are not and yet appear to be. 
 Rightly to aim in all these cases is the wise man's 
 task. — Epictetus 
 
 The maxim is "Pay attention!" Or, in common 
 parlance, "Keep your eyes open!" 
 
 Attention is a habit of mind. You can force 
 yourself to pay attention and observe, but if you 
 wish to become an effective, consistent observer you 
 must cultivate the observing habit of mind. 
 
 Most people are unobservant except in regard to 
 matters in which they are keenly interested. A girl 
 clerk, without effort and without conscious cere- 
 bration, as it is called, will tell you exactly what 
 clothes were worn by other women whom she met 
 at a social function, but the same girl will fail to 
 notice important matters affecting her daily work. 
 Not because she does not wish to do her duty. 
 The reason is that her mind is more alert where it is 
 interested than where it is not. 
 \J?he truth is that most people are bad observers. 
 
 [25]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 The other evening twelve men, distinguished in 
 various walks of life, were present at a dinner. A 
 diseussion arose regarding observation. One of the 
 party produced two "Fishers" from his pocket and 
 folded back the lower part of each note, also the 
 sides, so as to leave exposed only the following 
 words: "Currency Notes are legal tender for the 
 payment of any amount." He handed the notes 
 round, and asked each of those present to say which 
 was the ten-shilling note and which the pound note. 
 Not a single member of the party guessed right. 
 Knowing that ten-shilling notes were green, all 
 assumed that the words printed in green colour 
 belonged to the ten-shilling note. In fact, these 
 words are printed in brown on the ten-shilling note 
 and in green on the one-pound note. He then 
 handed round a packet of Wills's "Gold Flake" 
 cigarettes, and, pointing to the side of the packet 
 which bears the facsimile signature of the makers, 
 he said, "Tell me how many 'h's' there are." Of the 
 twelve diners, only one — a naval officer — discovered 
 that there were two. Every one else answered 
 "One." The second "h" is in the word "the." It is 
 quite easy to see when it is pointed out. Houdin, 
 the great French conjurer, trained himself to ob- 
 serve by special exercises. He would walk past 
 a shop window and, without stopping, notice and 
 memorise as many of the objects displayed in it as 
 he could; then he wrote down a list of them. At 
 first his lists were short, and his walking-pace had 
 [26]
 
 HOW TO OBSERVE 
 
 to be slow. But by assiduous practice he was able 
 in one quick glance to notice and afterwards record 
 an incredible number of things, and the faculty of 
 swift observation thus acquired was half the secret 
 of his success as a magician. 
 
 Take one more test. Can you accurately write 
 down the colour of the eyes of any dozen people 
 you know? You will find it a difficult task. A 
 written record is a wonderful test of observation. 
 If you want to observe accurately, write down 
 what you see, in the same way as students are re- 
 quired to record the result of their observations. 
 Take some simple article. Examine it closely, and 
 as you examine it write a detailed description of it 
 — such a description as would enable the article to 
 be identified or reproduced. The pen is a wonder- 
 ful aid to the eye. If you examine and describe an 
 article in this fashion, you will be surprised at what 
 you discover. 
 
 A visit to the Law Courts will show how wit- 
 nesses differ when describing an incident. Most of 
 them do not wish to tell untruths. They are quite 
 honest in what they say. No doubt some of them 
 are influenced by prejudice. They think they saw 
 what supports the side of the case in which they are 
 interested. But most of them are bad observers. 
 This is not peculiar, to witnesses. By way of a test, 
 a professor arranged that during one of his lectures 
 a man should rush into the room, turn round three 
 times, and rush out again. Of course, the students 
 
 [27]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 were taken by surprise. There were forty present 
 — only five gave the correct colour of the man's 
 clothes. All the others were hopelessly wrong. 
 
 During the coal stoppage, a meeting took place 
 at the House of Commons at which a number of 
 persons were present. Later a question arose on 
 what one of them had said. Six of those in attend- 
 ance gave their impressions. They all disagreed, 
 and the speaker himself gave a different version 
 altogether. Some persons have the knack of cor- 
 rectly describing a scene; others what is said; and 
 others the contents of a document. I know a man 
 who can be relied upon to state accurately what a 
 letter, memorandum, or Act of Parliament con- 
 tains. But he invariably gives an inaccurate ac- 
 count of a conversation. He is perceptive through 
 the eye — not through the ear. 
 
 Hearing is as important to observation as sight. 
 Some people have more acute hearing than others. 
 But hearing can be developed in the same way as 
 observation through the eye. Here again the 
 maxim is, "Pay attention! Keep your ears open!" 
 Many persons with indifferent sight are wonderful 
 observers, and see more than others with full sight. 
 They see because they look. Two men may each 
 have a telescope — the one double the power of the 
 other. The man with the higher power instrument 
 sees nothing because he does not use it. The man 
 with the lower power instrument sees much, be- 
 cause he uses what he has. 
 [28]
 
 HOW TO OBSERVE 
 
 The Rev. Francis Bashforth, the chief authority 
 on ballistics — that is, the laws governing the action 
 of projectiles — is a good example. His experi- 
 ments, carried out between 1864 and 1870 with 
 comparatively clumsy apparatus, were so accurate 
 that modern-day scientists with perfect instruments 
 have been able to improve upon them only very 
 slightly. He had a genius for observation and 
 calculation. 
 
 From the point of view of seeing and hearing, the 
 man with good sight and hearing has, of course, an 
 advantage over the man with poor sight and hear- 
 ing. The former can readily see or hear what the 
 other can discover only with difficulty, or perhaps 
 not see or hear at all. But observation is not only a 
 matter of sight and hearing. It depends upon the 
 desire to see and hear and upon knowledge and 
 imagination — knowledge which tells the observer 
 what to look for, and imagination which suggests 
 possibilities for investigation. 
 
 It is a mistake, moreover, to suppose that you 
 can safely pass from observation to the drawing 
 of conclusions without a good deal of intermediary 
 thought. Goethe, in one of his "Maxims and Re- 
 flections," points out that this was a fault of the 
 Greeks. "What wonderful eyes the Greeks had 
 for many things ! Only they committed the mistake 
 of being overhasty, of passing straightway from 
 the phenomenon to the explanation of it, and 
 thereby produced certain theories that are quite 
 
 [29]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 inadequate. But this is the mistake of all times, 
 and still made in our own day." It was the mistake 
 made by "the elderly gentleman of scientific attain- 
 ments" at Clifton, who mistook the flashes and 
 guiding lights of Mr. Pickwick's dark lantern on 
 his window for "some extraordinary and wonderful 
 phenomenon of nature, which no philosopher had 
 ever seen before." He was not wanting in mere 
 observation; he made notes. A few minutes later 
 he mistook Sam Weller's clenched fist on his nose 
 for an allied phenomenon, and in the end he pro- 
 duced a demonstration that all these effects were 
 the effects of electricity, "which demonstration 
 delighted all the Scientific Associations beyond 
 measure, and caused him to be considered a light 
 of science ever afterwards." 
 
 The advantages of good sight and hearing must 
 not, however, be underestimated. Many children 
 do not observe because they cannot see or hear as 
 well as they should. While in Westminster Abbey 
 the other day a friend of mine pointed out a 
 medallion in the distance to his small son. The 
 little boy could not see it. My friend discovered 
 for the first time that his child was short-sighted. 
 A pair of spectacles changed the boy's outlook on 
 life. 
 
 Predilections and prejudices are fatal to sound 
 observation. Inquiries conducted by people with 
 strong views are usually unsatisfactory. For ex- 
 ample, two women are appointed to inquire into 
 [30]
 
 HOW TO OBSERVE 
 
 the state of the drink traffic in a certain district — 
 Mrs. A., a "pussyfoot," with an ardent desire to 
 interfere with other people's habits; and Mrs. B., a 
 believer in moderate drinking and a strong advo- 
 cate of individual freedom. Mrs. A. reports that 
 the inhabitants are being ruined by drink, and that 
 nothing short of complete prohibition can save the 
 district. Mrs. B. reports that there is very little 
 drunkenness and that all is for the best in the best 
 of all possible worlds. Both parties are quite hon- 
 est, but neither description is accurate. Usually 
 scientific investigators are not prone to let their 
 personal views interfere with their judgment. But 
 sometimes a scientist is so convinced that his pet 
 theory is right that he marshals facts in such a way 
 as to give it the maximum amount of support. He 
 attaches no importance to what does not suit him, 
 and magnifies the importance of what does. Obser- 
 vation can be influenced even by others, and the 
 observer be made to see what he is to told to see. 
 Shakespeare has a famous example of this in 
 "Hamlet." 
 
 Hamlet. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of 
 a camel? 
 
 Polonius. By the mass, and 'tis a camel, indeed. 
 Hamlet. Methinks it is like a weasel. 
 Polonius. It is backed like a weasel. 
 Hamlet. Or like a whale? 
 Polonius. Very like a whale. 
 
 Children are sometimes taught to observe by 
 requiring them to describe a number of articles 
 
 [31]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 placed on a tray. After the observers have been 
 looking for so many minutes the tray is covered 
 with a cloth and they are called upon to describe 
 the objects. Sometimes the articles are exhibited 
 only for a few seconds, and after the cloth has been 
 placed on the tray the children are asked to say how 
 many there were. Rudyard Kipling gives a 
 graphic account of this game in "Kim." 
 
 The object of education is to train the mind. 
 The same applies to these games. In themselves 
 they have no value. Their only merit is to train 
 the mind to observe things that matter. 
 
 Remember that in observation, as in other things, 
 you must consider the object you have in view. If 
 you want to describe a landscape you must not pay 
 too much attention to worm casts. You want to 
 look at the great vistas. On the other hand, if you 
 are going to purchase a field for agricultural pur- 
 poses, you must pay close attention to the character 
 of the soil. So it is in other matters. You must 
 observe what is important. That, too, is a question 
 of observation — the art of picking out the thing 
 that matters. The power to supply the need is a 
 different quality. Those who are able to see what 
 is required, and who are able to supply the want 
 are sure of success. But the power of observation 
 is half the battle. 
 
 Don't try to observe too much. All observation 
 is useful, but no man can observe everything. You 
 must decide upon what is most valuable for your 
 [32]
 
 HOW TO OBSERVE 
 
 purpose. As one of the ancients remarked, "The 
 half is often better than the whole" — a saying well 
 worth reflecting upon. In Herbert Spencer's ex- 
 cellent little book on education he says: "The 
 question is not whether such and such knowledge is 
 of worth, but what is its relative worth? Any one 
 who should learn the distances between all the 
 towns in England might in the course of his life 
 find one or two of the thousand facts he had 
 acquired of some slight service when arranging a 
 journey. But every one would admit that there 
 was no proportion between the required labour and 
 the probable benefit." To quote the old song: 
 
 Could a man be secure 
 
 That his days would endure 
 
 As of old,, for a thousand long years, 
 
 What things might he know ! 
 
 What deeds might he do ! 
 
 And all without hurry or care. 
 
 But we that have but span-long lives must ever 
 bear in mind our limited opportunities. It is use- 
 less to disregard the hard fact that the world can- 
 not exist without work, and that efficiency is essen- 
 tial to human success.^ 
 
 On the other hand, one has to confess that there 
 is a certain pleasure in the casual observation of 
 things that do not matter. Man does not live by 
 bread alone — he likes a little jam with it sometimes. 
 Efficiency is not the only object in fife — albeit a 
 very important one. Every one should strive to 
 make his or her fife interesting. A keen interest in 
 
 [33]
 
 \J 
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 what is going on around us is one of the best aids to 
 happiness. 
 
 The power of weighing and judging evidence is 
 important, but the doubting habit is to be avoided. 
 There must be a sense of proportion. [If a business 
 man is called upon to make, say, twenty decisions 
 in a day, he selects by instinct those which are 
 relatively unimportant, and comes to speedy con- 
 clusions, knowing full well the deadly effect of 
 arrears. Nothing is more desirable than the art of 
 picking out the thing that really matters ; the knack 
 of going to the heart of a subject. This applies not 
 only to reasoning on specific subjects, but to the 
 conduct of life and business, j 
 
 The story goes that Lord Chancellor Eldon, a 
 great doubter, had offered to him two country 
 houses in which to spend his summer vacation. He 
 applied his mind to a close comparison between the 
 two. No. 1 was better furnished, had more bed- 
 rooms, was easier of access to London, etc. No. 2 
 was situated in prettier scenery, the library was 
 better, he had more friends in the neighbourhood, 
 etc. He debated the matter so long that the sum- 
 mer passed before he arrived at a decision, no doubt 
 unconsciously influenced by his wife, the most par- 
 simonious of women. 
 
 In this connexion note that in the practical 
 affairs of life and business people with plain, simple 
 minds, and a clear, definite objective, are more 
 [34]
 
 HOW TO OBSERVE 
 
 effective than those with more diverse interests and 
 more subtle intellects. They know where they want 
 to go, and move forward with a steady, persistent 
 effort. That explains why the stupid often domi- 
 nate the clever. 1 
 
 [35]
 
 Ill: HOW TO READ 
 
 '
 
 Ill 
 
 HOW TO READ 
 
 Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, 
 and some few to be chewed and digested. 
 
 — Lord Bacon 
 
 Study and reading are two different things. 
 Some books can be understood only by study. 
 Each chapter must be read over and over again 
 until the student understands it. Each chapter 
 must be epitomised in writing, and the reader must 
 examine himself with a key, or get some one else to 
 examine him, so that he may ascertain what prog- 
 ress he is making. If he is new to the subject he 
 will meet with many words he does not understand. 
 These he must look out in the dictionary. As time 
 goes on he will find that he can grasp the subject 
 without taking so much trouble. For example, 
 take an engineering, law, accountancy, or medical 
 student. When he reads his first technical book he 
 finds difficulty in understanding it. In course of 
 time he can read books relating to his profession 
 with ease, if not with pleasure. It is usually worth 
 while to read a serious book twice and to allow an 
 interval to elapse between the first and second peru- 
 
 [39]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 sals. On a second reading fresh points are often 
 discovered. 
 
 All this, however, has much more to do with 
 study than with reading; and, as I have said, these 
 are different things. The tendency to confuse them 
 is at the bottom of a great deal of book-shyness. 
 Study is directed to special, local, and often tem- 
 porary purposes, and, to be successful, must often 
 be laborious. Reading should also have a purpose, 
 but it is a much wider one. The end of study, 
 broadly speaking, is information; the end of read- 
 ing is wisdom. Study is concerned with the meth- 
 ods and furniture of life, reading is concerned with 
 life itself in our deepest experience. The distinc- 
 tion is vital, and it was the theme of Matthew 
 Arnold's lecture on "Literature and Science" de- 
 livered in America in 1885. He pointed out that 
 Science is confined to the domain of knowledge, and 
 that only very indirectly does this knowledge affect 
 our sense of conduct and our sense of beauty, be- 
 cause it is not knowledge touched with emotion. 
 Science is concerned with new inquiries and truths 
 and with the laws of the universe and with the 
 visible progress of all the machinery of life; whereas 
 literature is concerned with conduct, with beauty, 
 with elevation of mind, and with those highest 
 things which are the same to-day, yesterday, and 
 for ever. This is the knowledge which can be 
 derived from Literature as distinct from Science, 
 and from Reading as distinct from Study. 
 [40]
 
 HOW TO READ 
 
 Most great readers have started without any par- 
 ticular system. They read what interested them. 
 Not a bad idea if you understand and remember 
 what you read. 
 
 When Lord Avebury, whose chapter on "The 
 Choice of Books" in his "Pleasures of Life" I rec- 
 ommend to you, consulted Charles Darwin on the 
 selection of a course of study, the great naturalist 
 asked him what interested him most, and advised 
 him to choose that subject. In like manner one 
 might advise the young reader to begin by reading 
 what interests him, and then to follow his nose. 
 Lord Sherbrooke went so far as to say: "Form a 
 habit of reading, do not mind what you read, the 
 reading of better books will come when you have a 
 habit of reading the inferior." But Mr. Frederic 
 Harrison, in his admirable essay, "The Choice of 
 Books," rejects this as dangerous advice. You 
 may form the habit of reading trash or second-rate 
 literature and never be able to break it. He would 
 have us choose our books with as much discretion 
 and taste as we choose our friends, and he marvels 
 that men who would not think of choosing their 
 friends in a pot-house are content to pick up with 
 almost any book they "come across." His essay 
 should be read. But, for the ordinary man, milder 
 counsel may be better. Dr. Johnson said that he 
 would let a boy at first read any English book 
 which attracted him, "because you have done a 
 great deal when you have brought him to have some 
 
 [41]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 entertainment from a book." He knew that ordi- 
 nary men and women do not take to serious reading 
 as ducks take to water. In the ordinary way read- 
 ing is a recreation. If you are reading for pleasure, 
 do not make your task repulsive. Read books that 
 interest you. You may fancy a particular subject, 
 and you may dislike another. Be on the watch for 
 topics of interest. They are always cropping up. 
 But do not read too much fiction. If you contract 
 the fiction habit you will rarely read anything else. 
 As Mr. Harrison says: "An insatiable appetite 
 for new novels makes it as hard to read a master- 
 piece as it seems to a Parisian boulvardier to live in 
 a quiet country." The art of reading serious books 
 is not natural to most people. It must be developed 
 or acquired, but the same applies to most recrea- 
 tions — bridge, tennis, golf, billiards, etc. You may 
 not care for a game when you begin, but as you 
 gain proficiency it grows on you, and gradually 
 you become a devotee. So it is with reading serious 
 books. You may not care for them at first, but you 
 acquire the taste, and supply yourself with the 
 means of spending many happy and instructive 
 hours. Sound books are lasting friends, and there 
 is an illimitable supply. 
 
 One object of reading is to enable us to under- 
 stand the art of life. In most cases the conditions 
 of people's lives are imposed by necessity, but most 
 of us can modify them by creating new interests. 
 Books offer infinite possibilities in that direction. 
 [42]
 
 HOW TO READ 
 
 This workaday world is so trying at times, 
 
 Folks chatter and squabble like rooks ! 
 So the wise flee away to the best of all climes, 
 Which you enter through History, Memoirs ot Rhymes, 
 
 That most wonderful Country of Books. 
 
 And griefs are forgotten. You go on a tour 
 
 More wondrous than any of "Cook's"; 
 It costs you but little — your welcome is sure — 
 Your spirits revive in the atmosphere pure 
 
 Of the wonderful Country of Books. 
 
 Your friends rally round you. You shake by the hand 
 
 Philosophers, soldiers, and spooks ! 
 Adventurers, heroes, and all the bright band 
 Of poets and sages are yours to command 
 
 In that wonderful Country of Books. 
 
 New heights are explored; and new banners unfurled; 
 
 New joys found in all sorts of nooks — 
 From the work-weary brain misgivings are hurled — 
 You come back refreshed to this workaday world 
 
 From that wonderful Country of Books. 
 
 Books will help you to take advantage of your 
 opportunities, and has not some one said that the 
 art of life consists in the seizing of opportunities? 
 It must, however, be admitted that while books 
 broaden the outlook, practical experience is the best 
 guide. You require a happy combination of expe- 
 rience and bookwork in the proportion of, say, 
 three to one. Some people have the gift of creating 
 opportunities. They examine the position and 
 strike out in a new line. But this involves powers 
 of initiative comparatively rare. It is, however, 
 within the meanest capacity to sit down quietly and 
 take stock. "What have I done?" "What am I 
 
 [43]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 going to do?" We are a]] apt to get into grooves. 
 What Matthew Arnold calls "each days petty 
 dust" obscures our vision. We are so taken up 
 with the detail of life that we fail to mark the 
 progress of time, and perhaps lose great oppor- 
 tunities because we do not look for them. 
 
 I have said, "Read what interests you." Always 
 have some topic uppermost in your mind. A chance 
 meeting or conversation may open up a train of 
 inquiry. For example, when I was a youth I heard 
 two men arguing about Cromwell's ancestry. Up 
 to then I had taken no special interest in Cromwell. 
 I had been taught about his public achievements, 
 but knew little of the man. The conversation led me 
 to buy a "Life of Cromwell." I looked up the point 
 which had been discussed. I found the Cromwell 
 family an interesting study. Then I bought a book 
 containing his speeches. Cromwell made me inter- 
 ested in the personalities of Pym and Hampden, so 
 I took an excursion into their lives. If you are 
 interested, try Morley's "Life of Cromwell," Fred- 
 eric Harrison's "Life of Cromwell," and Gold win 
 Smith's "Three English Statesmen." It is inter- 
 esting to follow up a subject. For example, the 
 growth and expansion of the British Empire, get- 
 ting together such books as Seeley's "Expansion of 
 England," "The Life of William Pitt," by Basil 
 Williams, Lord Rosebery's "Chatham," Macau- 
 lay's "Essay on Chatham," "Wolfe and Mont- 
 calm," by Parkman, "Clive" in the "British Men of 
 [44]
 
 HOW TO READ 
 
 Action" series, Macaulay's "Essay on Clive," 
 Mahan's "Sea Power," etc. Or the growth of the 
 modern attitude towards the poorer and industrial 
 classes, taking Morley's "Rousseau," Disraeli's 
 "Sybil," Ruskin's "Unto this Last," and Webb's 
 "History of Trade Unionism." 
 
 To be sure, you may not want to draw up a long 
 programme in advance. When you have done so it 
 may frighten and fatigue you in the prospect. But 
 let one book lead you to another. Let it excite j^our 
 further curiosity along its own lines. If you have 
 read and enjoyed Macaulay's slashing and enter- 
 taining essay on Croker's edition of Boswell's 
 "Johnson" you will surely feel the impulse to tackle 
 that great and boundlessly entertaining biography 
 in earnest. A great many people have not read it 
 because they are shy of buying long books and 
 regard the reading of them a solemn and rather 
 tremendous business. They regard large books as 
 they do formidable persons. But break the ice. 
 And try this kind of chain reading. 
 
 There is much to be said for reading good books 
 about books, I mean those which convey the flavour 
 of fine literature. There have been many such 
 tasters and recommenders. Charles Lamb, Wil- 
 liam Hazlitt, Walter Bagehot, Ruskin, Edward 
 Fitzgerald (in his letters) and Robert Louis Ste- 
 venson — to name a few at random — were such, and 
 so, also, very notably to-day, is Mr. Augustine 
 Birrell. 
 
 [45]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 It may seem a revolutionary statement, but the 
 truth is that, with the exception of specialists, very 
 few people read old books, and very few old books 
 are worth reading, if the reader's opportunities are 
 limited. As a clever person remarked the other 
 day, "Few books have the eternal verities of matter 
 and style." If the ordinary man wishes to read, 
 say, philosophy, he had better get a modern book 
 that will describe the teachings of Hobbes, Locke, 
 Kant, Hume, etc. If he tries to read the originals 
 he will be bored, and will probably fail to grasp the 
 portions of the theories of the various authors which 
 have become incorporated in the mesh of philo- 
 sophic thought. 
 
 It is curious to note the attitudes of different men 
 towards books. When I was young I came into 
 touch with two old lawyers' clerks — both great 
 Shakespeareans. I think they had read nothing 
 else, except a book on costs and Day's "Common 
 Law Procedure Acts." They could quote against 
 each other by the hour. I thought I would take 
 part in the proceedings, but soon found that verbal 
 memorising was not in my line. However, I took 
 to reading Shakespeare pretty closely, and with the 
 aid of Dr. Johnson was able to point out certain 
 things in connexion with their favourite plays 
 which my old friends had never thought of. I made 
 the interesting discovery that, being lawyers' clerks, 
 they fully appreciated the themes of King Lear, 
 Macbeth, and Othello, etc., but they never resolved 
 [46]
 
 HOW TO READ 
 
 the plays into terms of actual existence. They were 
 just plays and nothing else. Love, ingratitude, 
 jealousy, craftiness, ambition, and murder were the 
 ordinary everyday things of life. Shakespeare had 
 made them interesting, but it never occurred to my 
 two old friends that the plays pointed any lessons 
 or that principles gained from books could be ap- 
 plied to the conduct of life. Their lives were shaped 
 entirely on instinct and experience. They took no 
 notice of books, but were strong on certain maxims 
 they had heard enunciated by their fathers, barris- 
 ters, and others with whom they had come in con- 
 tact : terse sentences pregnant with worldly wisdom 
 — "Once a rascal, always a rascal," and so on. I 
 have often thought since that the majority of people 
 conduct their lives on the same plan. Some time 
 afterwards I met a clever man who was a keen 
 biologist, philosopher, and political economist. He 
 introduced me to Darwin's "Origin of Species," 
 "The Descent of Man," Mill's "Political Econ- 
 omy," and several books of Herbert Spencer's. He 
 was the antithesis of the lawyers' clerks. His life 
 was compounded of theories. He was always try- 
 ing to apply the rules laid down by his heroes to 
 commonplace events of life. If he discharged his 
 office boy he would make sage remarks about the 
 survival of the fittest, the transfer of labour to more 
 suitable occupations, and the reversion to type. I 
 cannot say that he was very successful. In short, 
 he was a crank. 
 
 [47]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 Concerning poetry, it must be confessed that 
 most English people arc not fond of verse. They 
 regard tin- reading of it as waste of time, in which 
 respect they differ from the Scottish and Welsh. 
 It is best to begin with something simple— -even the 
 "Ingoldsby Legends," or with a good anthology of 
 English verse, containing the star turns, from 
 which you can make your own selection, or with a 
 poem full of lilt and rhythm, but which tells a dra- 
 matic story, such as Tennyson's "Revenge." 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh points out, in his life of the 
 poet, that present-day ideas of heaven and hell are 
 based on "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise Re- 
 gained." You might ascertain whether you agree 
 with him. Poetrj r is like Opera. At the first go-off 
 the mind is intent on the unfolding of the story and 
 in endeavouring to ascertain the author's mean- 
 ing. On further acquaintance the hearer, being no 
 longer distracted by these considerations, devotes 
 himself to the real purpose of the entertainment — 
 namely, the enjoyment of the music, which he 
 learns to appreciate for its own sake, irrespective of 
 the drama. The same thing applies to poetry. 
 When the story or meaning has been gathered, the 
 reader is free to devote himself to enjoying the 
 method of expression. Poetry is the language of 
 the emotions. A few lines of verse are more suited 
 to the requirements of the lover, or a man in trouble, 
 than volumes of prose. 
 [48]
 
 HOW TO READ 
 
 Some time ago "John o' London" asked me to 
 contribute to a symposium concerning a few books 
 best calculated to form the character of a young 
 man of twenty-one. I thought of suggesting the 
 first chapters of Anson on "Contracts" and Pollock 
 on "Torts" (Wrongs), the first sixty-three pages 
 of Best on "Evidence," Shakespeare, and an an- 
 thology of English verse. You will probably say 
 "A strange mixture!" You might say the same 
 thing of life. A man who had read and grasped 
 these books would know : 
 
 1. How to judge evidence. 
 
 2. His rights and responsibilities in relation to 
 his fellow-citizens. 
 
 3. From Shakespeare he would learn a knowl- 
 edge of the world and human nature, and, in a 
 sense, history, and would develop his sense of 
 honour. 
 
 4. The poets would tell him how to enjoy his life, 
 how to admire nature and how to bear his 
 troubles. 
 
 Many well-known and successful men contrib- 
 uted to this symposium, and their selections of 
 books which in their experience tend to build up 
 mind and character were very interesting and often 
 curious. In some instances the choice was highly 
 personal, and not such as one would expect, but 
 this only added to the value of the list. Here are a 
 number of typical selections : 
 
 [49]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 Emerson's Essays. 
 
 Carlyle's "Sartor Resartus," "Heroes and Hero- 
 Worship, " and "Past and Present." 
 
 Boswell's "Life of Johnson." 
 
 Wordsworth's Works. 
 
 The Dialogues of Plato (in Jowett's transla- 
 tion). 
 
 Marcus Aurelius. 
 
 Maeterlinck's "Buried Temple." 
 
 Trevelyan's "Life of Macaulay." 
 
 Lockhart's "Life of Sir Walter Scott." 
 
 J. S. Mill's "Liberty." 
 
 Spencer's "Data of Ethics." 
 
 Browning's "The Ring and the Book." 
 
 Voltaire's "Candide." 
 
 Smiles's "Self-Help." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Thucydides. 
 
 Charnwood's "Life of Lincoln." 
 
 Ruskin's "Sesame and Lilies," "Crown of Wild 
 Olive," and "Unto this Last." 
 
 Lessing's "Laocoon." 
 
 Prescott's "Conquest of Mexico." 
 
 Mrs. Steele's "India throughout the Ages." 
 
 Lew Wallace's "Ben Hur." 
 
 Devas's "Key to the World." 
 
 Cobbett's "Protestant Reformation." 
 
 Sir Thomas Browne's "Religio Medici." 
 
 Matthew Arnold's "Essays in Criticism" and 
 "Literature and Dogma." 
 [50]
 
 HOW TO READ 
 
 Darwin's "Descent of Man." 
 
 Sir Robert Ball's "Story of the Heavens." 
 
 Wells's "Outline of History." 
 
 Sir E. Ray Lankester's "Science from an Easy 
 Chair," "Diversions of a Naturalist" and "The 
 Kingdom of Man." 
 
 Browning's Poems. 
 
 Sophocles' Tragedies. 
 
 John Morley's "Compromise." 
 
 Dean Inge's "Outspoken Essays." 
 _ Such a list could be greatly extended. 
 
 The art of rapid reading is valuable. Few people 
 possess it. But it is useless to read rapidly if you 
 do not follow or cannot remember what you read. 
 The act of quick reading can be acquired by prac- 
 tice^ Accountants are quick at reading balance- 
 sheets; lawyers, briefs; sub-editors, the horrible 
 flimsy "copy" which the ordinary individual can 
 hardly read at all. In other words, "practice makes 
 perfect." The brain is a wonderful organiser. 
 When a child learns to read, the mind takes charge 
 of the operation, and puzzles away over A, B, C, 
 etc. But gradually as the little student progresses, 
 the task is handed over to the automatic department 
 in the brain, thus relieving the mind of routine 
 work. The same happens, more or less, in regard 
 to apprehending the contents of written or printed 
 matter. Concentration is necessary for quick and 
 instructive reading. Note the avidity with which 
 
 [51] 
 
 J
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 the merchant reads his morning's letters. Nothing 
 escapes him. Then note the change when he reads 
 a book on a subject in which he is but little in- 
 terested. 
 
 [52]
 
 IV: THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
 
 IV 
 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING 
 
 His words like so many nimble and airy servitors 
 trip about him at command. 
 
 John Milton 
 
 The art of public speaking may be divided into 
 two parts — what to say, and how to say it. 
 
 A good delivery covers many defects, but no one 
 can hope to become a first-class speaker unless he 
 has something to say that is worth saying. To pro- 
 duce a good speech the speaker must have knowl- 
 edge, experience, and imagination. If he has 
 humour, so much the better. He must have also a 
 sense of proportion and suitability. 
 
 After-dinner and social speaking is one thing; 
 serious platform speaking another ; speaking before 
 a deliberative assembly a third; lecturing and 
 preaching a fourth; advocacy a fifth; and finally 
 there is addressing company meetings and trade 
 gatherings. Each type of speaking demands dif- 
 ferent qualifications and different methods of prep- 
 aration. A slight occasion such as an after-dinner 
 speech is unsuitable for heavy preparation, and 
 while an after-dinner speaker should go prepared, 
 he should endeavour to adjust himself to the at- 
 
 [55]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 mosphere of the gathering. For a serious occasion 
 a speech should be carefully thought out before- 
 hand. Most of the great speakers spend much time 
 and trouble in preparing their speeches. Some dic- 
 tate or write them out in full. Then heads for 
 guidance when speaking are carefully prepared. 
 These are usually written on cards or stiff half- 
 sheets of paper, carefully tied together to prevent 
 their escape in the course of the speech. Important 
 passages and the peroration are usually written out 
 fully in the notes. 
 
 No absolute rules about preparation can be laid 
 down; so much depends on temperament. John 
 Bright brooded long and painfully over a speech 
 he was about to deliver, but the only part he actually 
 wrote out was his peroration. For he understood 
 the enormous value of that spontaneous under- 
 standing which arises between an audience and a 
 good speaker — an exchange of inspiration on the 
 spot. Therefore he prepared only notes for the 
 body of his speech. But he understood also the 
 immense importance of a clean and effective end- 
 ing. Mr. T. P. O'Connor, one of the best judges 
 of oratory I know, describes this care for the end as 
 a wise precaution. He says: "You may remark 
 in Shakespeare that he often gives a couple of 
 rhymed lines to the actor when he has to leave the 
 stage. That leaving the stage with effectiveness is 
 one of the most difficult things in the world to 
 accomplish; it is like a man trying to get out of a 
 [50]
 
 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING 
 
 drawing-room. Similarly the fitting and dignified 
 conclusion of a speech is one of the difficulties of 
 oratory. How often have I heard a man making 
 half a dozen perorations before he found the right 
 one on which he could wind up, as he thought, with 
 grace." The art of sitting down at the right mo- 
 ment applies to every kind of speaking, and, not 
 least, to mere after-dinner speaking. A man who 
 is uncertain of himself would be wise to arrange 
 with his neighbour at a banquet to pull him down 
 violently at the right moment and to leave that 
 moment to his discretion. Speaking is a knack 
 which comes from constant practice, and while the 
 accomplished speaker frequently prepares set 
 speeches, he has the art of thinking on his legs, and, 
 when necessary, can make a creditable performance 
 on the spur of the moment. This introduces that 
 very important element in good speaking — fluency, 
 which does not necessarily mean rapid speaking. It 
 means a command of words equal to the flow of 
 thought. How fluency can be attained is a hard 
 question. The elder and the younger Pitt thought 
 they knew the best way, and many other great 
 orators have adopted their recipe. It is, no doubt, 
 a difficult one, but its effectiveness can hardly be 
 disputed. It is to take a book in any foreign lan- 
 guage which you know fairly well, and make free 
 translations from its pages. The book gives you a 
 train of thought; it is yours to supply equivalent 
 English words in elegance and order. Lord Stan- 
 
 [57]
 
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 hope, Pitt's biographer, thus describes the method: 
 "No man had that gift of using in public speaking 
 the right word in the right place; no man carried 
 that gift to a higher degree of perfection, as all 
 parties have owned, than Mr. Pitt. Now my father 
 . . . ventured on one occasion to ask Mr. Pitt by 
 what means — by what course of study — he had 
 acquired that readiness of speech — that aptness of 
 finding the right word. Mr. Pitt replied that what- 
 ever readiness he might be thought to possess in 
 that respect he believed he derived very much from 
 a practice his father, the great Lord Chatham, had 
 enjoined on him. Lord Chatham had bid him take 
 up any book in some foreign language with which 
 he was well acquainted — in Latin, Greek, or French 
 for example. He then enjoined him to read out of 
 this work a passage in English, stopping where he 
 was not sure of the word until the right one came, 
 and then proceed. Mr. Pitt states that he had 
 assiduously followed this practice. At first he had 
 often to stop for a while before he could find the 
 proper word; but he found the difficulties gradually 
 disappear, until what was a toil to him at first be- 
 came at last an easy and familiar task." 
 
 Archbishop Magee gave the same advice more 
 briefly, but did not insist on a foreign language. 
 The exercise he prescribed was rapid paraphrase. 
 "Take a passage from some well-known classic 
 author, and render the passage into equivalent 
 words, so as to express the same idea. Thus you 
 [58]
 
 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING 
 
 will acquire the power of choosing, of substituting 
 one word for another." 
 
 Contrasting the verbal methods of Pitt and Fox, 
 Richard Porson said: "Pitt carefully considered 
 his sentences before he uttered them; Fox threw 
 himself into the middle of his, and left it to God 
 Almighty to get him out again." 
 
 Mr. Lloyd George carefully prepares his set 
 speeches, the heads of the arguments being set down 
 in detail on half -sheets of stiff paper and important 
 phrases being written out in full. Mr. Winston 
 Churchill adopts a different practice. He dictates 
 his set speeches in their entirety. Sir Arthur Bal- 
 four usually makes a few notes on the back of a 
 large envelope, but often speaks without notes and 
 prepares his arguments while on his legs. Mr. 
 Bonar Law plans his speeches in his head, and 
 never uses notes. Lord Birkenhead more or less 
 adopts the Balfourian method. 
 
 A friend of mine told John Bright that he had 
 heard him deliver what my friend thought was his 
 best speech. John Bright smiled and said, "I sup- 
 pose you refer to the Angel of death." "No," said 
 my friend, "it was the speech you delivered on the 
 Burial Bill." John Bright's eyes lit up and he 
 replied, "You are quite right, but that is not the 
 general opinion. I rehearsed the speech for three 
 days before I delivered it. But," he remarked 
 thoughtfully, "the unpremeditated part was the 
 best. I commenced by saying 'I am glad that the 
 
 [59]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 chief opposition to this Bill has come from the 
 University of Oxford; that ancient seat of learning 
 and — after a pause — undying prejudice.' There 
 are occasions on which it is necessary to lead up to 
 a subject, but sometimes one can capture one's 
 audience immediately by a phrase." He added, 
 smilingly, "I was successful in doing so on that 
 
 occasion." 
 
 Parliamentary debaters have this gift of rapid 
 thought and speech highly developed — the power 
 of rapidly seizing upon and emphasising the weak 
 points in opponents' arguments, and of enforcing 
 the strong points in their own case. Cobden never 
 made notes for his speeches, and prided himself on 
 being able to think and speak in the presence of an 
 audience as if he were writing in his library, but he 
 said that his constant and overruling thought, which 
 long experience of the arts of controversialists had 
 impressed on Ins mind, was to avoid the possibility 
 of being misrepresented, and to prevent his oppo- 
 nents from raising a false issue. Those who are 
 learning to speak should bear this in mind. They 
 should state their meaning as clearly as possible, 
 both from the point of view of argument and the 
 selection of words. 
 
 As we all know, there are occasions on which 
 speakers are anxious to avoid saying exactly what 
 they mean, and to endeavour to leave a loop-hole 
 open for the construction which suits them best 
 when the occasion arises. Arts of this sort are to be 
 [60]
 
 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING 
 
 deplored, and happily the conjurer with words, 
 who can make successful use of them, is rare. The 
 clumsy, inexperienced speaker is usually hoist with 
 his own petard. His audience see through the de- 
 vice, and when later on he endeavours to avail him- 
 self of his subtle phraseology he finds that his 
 loop-hole was badly chosen, and leads to conviction 
 instead of acquittal. 
 
 There are four sorts of speeches : 
 
 1. Those which impress the audience, and also 
 the public when read ; 
 
 2. Those which impress the audience, but read 
 indifferently; 
 
 3. Those which do not impress the audience, but 
 which read well ; and 
 
 4. Those which impress no one. 
 
 In the third class no one was more conspicuous 
 than Edmund Burke. His speeches read magnifi- 
 cently, but in the House of Commons he was nick- 
 named "The Dinner Bell." Sheridan said of him, 
 "When posterity read the speeches of Burke they 
 will hardly be able to believe that, during his life- 
 time, he was not considered as a first-rate speaker, 
 not even as a second-rate one." 
 
 Lincoln's "Gettysburg" speech is one of the most 
 famous orations in the Anglo-Saxon language, and 
 yet we are told that when delivered it made but 
 little impression and was completely over-shadowed 
 by the speech of a "spellbinder." 
 
 It may be asked, "In what respect do speeches 
 
 [61]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 differ from a pamphlet or magazine article?" 
 There is an essential difference. Speech has a 
 human element lacking in the written word, hecause 
 speech is communication between the speaker and 
 his audience face to face. This fact should be ever 
 present to the speaker's mind both when preparing 
 and delivering the speech. People addressed each 
 other by word of mouth long before they wrote. 
 Speech, therefore, is more primitive and human 
 than written matter. Public speaking not only ad- 
 mits but demands characteristics which would be 
 blemishes in compositions intended to be read. The 
 attention of the audience must be held, arguments 
 repeated, and free use made of analogies and illus- 
 trations. For this reason good speakers are often 
 bad writers, while good writers are rarely effective 
 speakers. Au fond, a speech is a transitory, 
 evanescent, episodic production, depending for its 
 immediate effect not only upon the matter but upon 
 the delivery which enables the great speaker to 
 sway his hearers. From their point of view person- 
 ality is the thing that counts for most. In written 
 compositions it stands for little or nothing. The 
 quality of the written word is the only thing that 
 matters. The author may be repulsive, but he is 
 invisible. He looks at you only through the printed 
 page. The speaker is judged by what he is or what 
 he appears to be. No man can achieve wide dis- 
 tinction as a speaker unless he can impress an audi- 
 ence face to face. That is the acid test of oratory, 
 [62]
 
 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING 
 
 high or low. That is how the speaker makes his 
 reputation. 
 
 Every speaker should endeavour to cultivate a 
 good style. He should take care to form his sen- 
 tences properly — long, tortuous periods should be 
 rigidly avoided. It takes a great orator like Mr. 
 Gladstone to carry through successfully to the end 
 lengthy, involved passages. It must be remem- 
 bered that style is a question of personality. The 
 mind acquires its most lasting impressions slowly 
 and almost unconsciously. Well-formed sentences 
 and clear expression become a habit, while on the 
 other hand "Evil communications corrupt good 
 manners" and good speeches. The tongue uncon- 
 sciously adopts the style continually presented to it 
 by the eye or the ear. Many speakers take con- 
 siderable trouble to maintain their style and keep 
 up their vocabulary. I know one excellent speaker 
 who, for this purpose, reads two chapters of the 
 Bible every night. I regarded him as a devout per- 
 son until I discovered his reason. I have heard of 
 others who take exercises in the speeches of Mr. 
 Joseph Chamberlain and Mr. Lloyd George. 
 
 In order to speak well you must know your sub- 
 ject. Some speakers acquire their information from 
 books, others from experience, and others, the best, 
 from both. It is useless to endeavour to explain 
 how would-be speakers should acquire powder and 
 shot for their speeches. Any such explanation 
 would involve a discussion of the whole question of 
 
 [63]
 
 SOMK THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 education. In short, if a speaker has got very little 
 in his head, he can gel very little oul of it. 
 
 But, when we come to method, speaking lias a 
 
 literature and a tradition all its own. Many of the 
 
 acutest minds have addressed themselves to ascer- 
 tain the best method of presenting a case so as to 
 capture the public to which it is desired t< i appeal. 
 
 They have studied how to deal with good and had 
 cases — how to holster up the latter — how to destroy 
 the former—how to draw the red herring across 
 
 their opponent's path, and how to persuade the 
 audience to accept fallacies. 
 
 Many people who know nothing about rhetoric 
 are full of rhetorical tricks. They know by instinct 
 what to say, what not to say, what to accentuate, 
 when to attack, when to defend, and when to 
 counter-attack. 
 
 Rhetoric is a sort of logic adapted for public 
 speaking. A dissertation upon this subject does 
 not come within the scope of the present chapter, 
 but I will endeavour to state briefly a few points of 
 general interest. 
 
 Before doing so, it is perhaps important to ob- 
 serve that, apart from elocution, a knowledge of 
 grammar and pronunciation is essential for any 
 person who speaks in public — that is to say, he 
 must speak grammatically, whether he understands 
 grammatical rules or not, and must pronounce his 
 words correctly. It is surprising how many clever 
 men who have made their way in the world make 
 [64]
 
 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING 
 
 terrible errors of this sort. Many a fine phrase has 
 been spoiled by an "h" too much or an "h" too little. 
 The strange thing is that many of the offenders do 
 not know that they drop or insert "h's." 
 
 Cicero says that the business of logic is to judge 
 of arguments, not to invent them. Some other 
 authority adds that the art of inventing and arrang- 
 ing arguments is the only true province of rhetoric. 
 Some one says that arguments unpolished by 
 rhetoric are like a diamond, which is of small use 
 until it is cut and polished, when its angles send 
 forth flashes of light which arrest and delight every 
 eye. Needless to say, a skilled diamond-cutter is 
 essential, otherwise the stone is spoiled. 
 
 Now, in military operations, as the war has 
 shown once more, the arrangement and disposition 
 of the troops are of the greatest consequence. The 
 genius of Foch made all the difference. In speak- 
 ing the same applies. Much depends on the ar- 
 rangement of a speech, if the object is to convince, 
 to persuade, or to refute objections. It may be 
 argued that devices of this sort are, or should be, 
 unnecessary in order to establish the truth of vital 
 matters. There may be much to be said for that 
 contention. My only object is to describe, briefly, 
 the plans recommended and used by countless gen- 
 erations of rhetoricians, and which are still in vogue 
 amongst politicians, lawyers, lecturers, preachers, 
 demagogues, and other speakers, as you may easily 
 note if you examine their speeches. 
 
 [65]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 Mr. Bernard Shaw says somewhere that Christ is 
 
 the greatest of political economists. It might be 
 said with equal truth and without irreverence that 
 He is the greatest of rhetoricians, using the word in 
 the sense above indicated. When the Scribes and 
 Pharisees brought to Him the woman taken in adul- 
 tery, He confounded them by saying: "He that is 
 without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at 
 her." How much more effective than to say, as an 
 ordinary man would have done, "Begone! You 
 know that you are all sinners and hypocrites!" 
 
 Or take the parable of the lilies, bearing in mind 
 that the Lord was addressing the common people: 
 
 "Consider the lilies how they grow; they toil not, 
 they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon 
 in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. If 
 then God so clothe the grass, which is to-day in the 
 field and to-morrow is cast into the oven, how much 
 more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith?" 
 
 Note the wonderful skill of these few lines. First 
 the speaker calms and exalts the minds of His 
 hearers by a poetic description which conjures up a 
 beautiful picture. Then He covertly enforces His 
 favourite doctrine that mankind should not be un- 
 duly "careful and troubled about many things." 
 The lilies toil not, neither do they spin, and yet they 
 are better clothed than the great ones of the earth 
 with all their wealth and power. Then suddenly 
 He changes the description and reduces the lilies to 
 the rank of grass (but, be it noted, better clothed 
 [60]
 
 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING 
 
 than King Solomon), and concludes by pointing 
 out that if the Almighty takes so much care of the 
 grass which to-day is and to-morrow is cast into the 
 oven, how much more will He look after the com- 
 mon people. 
 
 All the utterances of Jesus Christ may well be 
 studied from the oratorical point of view. And St. 
 Paul's short address on Mars Hill in Athens is a 
 marvel of oratorical tact and force. 
 
 [67]
 
 V: MAXIMS FOR SPEAKERS
 
 MAXIMS FOR SPEAKERS 
 
 Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with 
 salt. 
 
 — Epistle to the Colossians 
 
 I return to the consideration of the art — or arts — 
 of public speaking. 
 
 The refutation of contrary opinions often gives 
 scope for rhetorical tricks. It is a frequent but dis- 
 honest practice to make a brief reference at the 
 beginning of a speech to awkward objections, and 
 to promise to deal with them later on. The speaker 
 then proceeds to develop his own case so as to 
 engage the attention of his audience, and conven- 
 iently overlooks any detailed performance of his 
 undertaking. You may imagine that no intelligent 
 person would be led away by such a well-known and 
 shallow device. But you are mistaken. The pre- 
 liminary reference and promise quieten the minds 
 of the audience for the time being, and a powerful 
 statement of the speaker's case, although no real 
 answer to the objections, leads them to accept his 
 view and to pay no further regard to the contrary 
 opinion. A conjurer's audience knows that he will 
 attempt to divert their attention when producing 
 
 [71]
 
 SOME TIIIXGS THAT MATTER 
 
 the rabbit, but it allows itself to be deceived never- 
 theless. Note that in unskilful hands such a 
 rhetorical method is dangerous. It may be re- 
 marked, however, that many people who know noth- 
 ing of rhetoric are naturally skilful in disposing of 
 arguments in this way — particularly women. Most 
 people mislead in conversation and public speech, 
 by omitting the one fact more. An economy of 
 truth is more common than a profusion of lies. 
 
 Generally speaking, when stating a case, the 
 speaker should begin by setting forth the proposi- 
 tion he wishes to advance, and then follow with his 
 arguments; but there is no rule. The speaker must 
 decide for himself in each case. Supposing that a 
 local authority is discussing improved transport 
 facilities, and a member wishes to advocate motor 
 omnibuses in preference to tramways, he can adopt 
 one of two plans. He can begin by declaring his 
 opinion and then give his reasons, or he can com- 
 mence his remarks by pointing out the disadvan- 
 tages of tramways, then proceed to indicate the 
 advantages of motor omnibuses, and then declare 
 his opinion. The latter method has the merit of 
 disarming the antagonism which often results when 
 a speaker states an opinion before preparing the 
 minds of his hearers by stating the argument on 
 which it is based. Sometimes it is well to state and 
 answer the arguments which may be made against 
 the proposal advocated by the speaker. One great 
 art in speaking is to pick out the essential points 
 [72]
 
 MAXIMS FOR SPEAKERS 
 
 and to disregard the rest. And it must be remem- 
 bered that the obvious argument is the one that is 
 most likely to tell. Most people do not like subtle 
 or fantastic reasons. 
 
 Another important rule is to keep to the point to 
 which you are addressing yourself. Avoid excur- 
 sions into other subjects or into other branches of 
 the inquiry. Here it may be remarked that prac- 
 tised speakers sometimes make such interpolations, 
 either to relieve the mind of the audience or to divert 
 their attention from the weakness of the argument. 
 Nothing is more calculated to display such a defect 
 than a consecutive statement. To give a very bald 
 instance : if I set out to prove that black is white, it 
 may be more easy to accomplish the task if in the 
 course of the argument I divert the attention of the 
 audience by referring to the extravagance of the 
 Government in using white instead of black paint. 
 
 A speaker should be as brief as possible in his re- 
 marks. La Rochefoucauld says that true eloquence 
 consists in saying all that is necessary and nothing 
 but what is necessary. Bear in mind, however, that 
 in most cases repetition is essential. The ordinary 
 man does not care for tabloid arguments. He likes 
 to ruminate. To make him think with you it is 
 necessary to be easy and pleasing. Blaise Pascal, 
 one of the most eloquent men who ever lived, has 
 these wise words : "Eloquence is the art of saying 
 things in such a manner — first, that those to whom 
 they are addressed can understand them without 
 
 [73]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 trouble and with pleasure; and secondly, that they 
 may he interested in them in such a way that their 
 amour propre may lead them gladly to reflect upon 
 them. ... It must confine itself, as far as possible, 
 to the simplicity of nature, and not make great what 
 is small, nor small what is great. It is not enough 
 that a thing be fine, it must be fitting, neither in 
 excess nor defect. . . . Eloquence should prevail 
 by gentle suasion, not by constraint. It should 
 reign, not tyrannise." 
 
 The clever speaker thoroughly understands the 
 art of repetition. He knows how to repeat his 
 argument in different terms so as not to bore his 
 audience. In this connexion it may be pointed out 
 that for the immediate purpose the most effective 
 speeches are not always those which are best in 
 form. At the Bar, for example, many successful 
 advocates have been diffuse, and their speeches when 
 read verbatim have been unattractive. On the other 
 hand, some legal speeches are models of style and 
 form. Sir Harry Poland, when at the Bar, was 
 famous for his consecutive statements. One could 
 see the rope coiling round the criminal's neck as he 
 proceeded. The great Lord Erskine understood 
 the value of the leading and oft-repeated idea, or 
 refrain. "In every case," says Roscoe, "he pro- 
 posed a great leading principle to which all his 
 efforts were referable and subsidiary — which ran 
 through the whole of his address, arranging, gov- 
 erning, and elucidating every portion. 
 [74]
 
 MAXIMS FOR SPEAKERS 
 
 The mind does not readily grasp generalities, and 
 men's passions and sympathies are not usually 
 aroused by stating a bare fact. The outstanding 
 incidents must be related. Hence the phrase, "har- 
 rowing details." But on some occasions a pregnant 
 sentence is more powerful than a detailed story. It 
 all depends on the occasion and the sentence. The 
 coining of phrases is a gift, but under the stress of 
 emotion quite ordinary people sometimes exhibit 
 remarkable powers in that direction. An oblique 
 statement is often more effective than a direct one. 
 
 Shakespeare thoroughly appreciated the arts of 
 rhetoric. Even a schoolboy understands and ad- 
 mires the skill with which Marc Antony stirs up the 
 feelings of the Romans ; the crafty way in which he 
 approaches the subject; his studied moderation at 
 the commencement (a common rhetorical trick) ; 
 the way in which, apparently against his will, his 
 passions are gradually inflamed as he works up his 
 denunciation of the assassins. And yet we all know 
 that had we been there, with full knowledge of the 
 arts of demagogues, we should have shared in the 
 applause and joined in the hunt for Brutus, 
 Cassius, Casca, and company. 
 
 Invective, satire, humour, metaphor, etc., are 
 oratorical weapons that demand careful study, but 
 do not try to run before you can walk. Eloquence, 
 like poetry, is a gift. Proceed cautiously when 
 making new excursions. First perfect yourself as 
 
 [75]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 a ruler of hundreds, and you can then promote 
 yourself to be a ruler of thousands. 
 
 To be a success the speaker must hold the atten- 
 tion of his audience. The skilful use of the element 
 of surprise is an important factor. Dr. Johnson 
 says that the first purpose of a writer should be to 
 excite restless and unquenchable curiosity, so as to 
 compel the reader to continue to the end. Also a 
 good maxim for a speaker! But even the ablest 
 often admit failure in this respect. The most effec- 
 tive surprise is a happy blend of the old with the 
 new — the building of a new idea on an old founda- 
 tion, or the dressing of an old truth in a new gar- 
 ment. 
 
 Disraeli was a master of the art — one reason why 
 his speeches are such good reading. His point of 
 view was vivacious and unexpected, and he ex- 
 pressed himself in brilliant epigrams. I think it 
 was he who said that satire and invective were the 
 ornaments of debate. Ornamentation, however, re- 
 quires a skilful artist. His attack on Peel in March, 
 1845, is not only a fine specimen of invective, but an 
 example of how to excite the curiosity of the audi- 
 ence. This is the speech which contains the famous 
 passage : 
 
 "He [Peel] never refers to any author who is not 
 great — Canning, for example. That is a name 
 never to be mentioned, I am sure, in the House of 
 Commons without emotion. We all admire his 
 genius. We all deplore his untimely end; and we 
 [70]
 
 MAXIMS FOR SPEAKERS 
 
 all sympathise with him in his fierce struggle with 
 supreme prejudice and sublime mediocrity — with 
 inveterate foes and with candid friends. The right 
 honourable gentleman may be sure that a quotation 
 from such an authority will always tell. Some lines, 
 for example, upon friendship, written by Mr. Can- 
 ning, and quoted by the right honourable gentle- 
 man! The theme, the poet, the speaker — what a 
 felicitous combination!" 
 
 In commenting upon this speech, Mr. Mony- 
 penny says : 
 
 "We have first the low-level speaking in no way 
 remarkable that makes the preparation; the grad- 
 ual development of the theme of Peel's disregard of 
 party. Then, when the House has been wrought up 
 to a high pitch of excitement, the sudden descent by 
 the speaker, who is alone grave and unmoved, to the 
 low level again; the feigned humility of his readi- 
 ness to bow to the rod, and the seeming compliment 
 to Peel's mastery of quotation; Peel nervous and 
 expectant, the House still puzzled; the stealthy 
 approach to the position from which the spring is to 
 be made; the name which is the key-word dropped 
 as if by accident — 'Canning, for example'; Peel 
 visibly uncomfortable; the House beginning to be 
 excited; the drawling allusion to Canning's fierce 
 struggle with 'sublime mediocrity' — perhaps aimed 
 at Peel, though all are still doubtful — and 'with 
 candid — friends' — when the pause, the inflection of 
 the speaker's voice, and the direction of his glance, 
 
 [77]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 convert doubt into certainty; and then the culmi- 
 nating blow, 'some lines upon friendship written by- 
 Mr. Canning, and quoted by the right honourable 
 
 gentleman'; and. where a lesser artist would have 
 spoiled all by sonic crudity of comment, only the 
 restrained, but mordant, words: 'The theme, the 
 poet, the speaker — what a felicitous combination!' 
 
 It remains to say a few words regarding elocu- 
 tion. Speaking is not like public reading or acting. 
 "There is as much eloqui nee in the tone of voice, in 
 the eyes, and in the air of a speaker, as in his choice 
 of words." He himself is the character on the stage. 
 He is expressing his own thoughts in words selected 
 by himself, and if he wishes to hold the attention of 
 his audience, he must make them feel that he is 
 addressing them in his own fashion. He must think 
 of what he is saying and endeavour to suit the action 
 to the word in his own style, whatever it may be. 
 If he tries to adopt some one else's style he will 
 probably be a failure. In short, he must be natural, 
 but must avoid awkward, ungraceful tricks. An 
 amusing example of ungainliness, and the penalty 
 it brought on a speaker, is recorded by Francis E. 
 Leupp in his "Humours of Congress," as follows: 
 "Probably the shortest speech ever delivered in 
 Congress was made by 'Ben' Butler of Massachu- 
 setts. An Ohio member had fallen afoul of him one 
 day, and poured upon him a torrent of abuse which 
 would have excited general indignation, but for an 
 unconsciously ridiculous gesture with which the 
 [78]
 
 MAXIMS FOR SPEAKERS 
 
 orator accompanied almost every alternate sen- 
 tence ; this tempered the disgust of his hearers with 
 mirth. He would raise his arms just as high above 
 his head as possible, and then wring his hands as if 
 he were making a delirious attempt to wring them 
 off. Butler sat through the speech with his eyes 
 half closed, not moving a muscle. He rose when 
 his assailant finished, and stood calmly in the aisle. 
 After perhaps a minute of silence, he began: 'Mr. 
 Speaker!' Another impressive pause, and expect- 
 ancy reached nearly the bursting-point. Suddenly 
 raising his arms, Butler reproduced exactly the 
 awful gesture of the Ohio congressman. Then his 
 arms fell to his sides, and for another minute he 
 stood silent. 
 
 " 'That is all, Mr. Speaker,' he said, finally, and 
 sat down, 'I just wanted to answer the gentleman 
 from Ohio.' " 
 
 A speaker must be careful to enunciate clearly 
 and to suit his voice to the size of the audience. Yet 
 he must be careful not to think of himself, his de- 
 livery, or his voice, but of what he is saying. It is a 
 good plan, when you begin, to look at the members 
 of the audience farthest away. That leads you in a 
 natural manner to pitch your voice in the right 
 degree. When advising a young actor Sir Henry 
 Irving remarked : "Imagine that in the theatre you 
 have a pal in the back of the pit or gallery. Let him 
 hear every line you have to say. It will make you 
 speak distinctly and correctly." If you speak in- 
 
 [79]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 distinctly it is a good plan t<> t.'ikx' lessons, not in 
 elocution but in voice production. Most speakers 
 
 find their hands an encumbrance. They do not 
 
 know what to do with them. Some grasp the lapels 
 of their coat, some rest the tips of their fingers on 
 the table, some toy with their eyeglasses. Actors 
 often have the same difficulty. Henry Lytton in 
 his "Secrets of a Savoyard" tells how he mentioned 
 this matter to Sir W. S. Gilbert, who at once re- 
 plied: "Cut them off at the wrists, and forget 
 you've got any hands." First-rate advice, however 
 difficult to follow. 
 
 The problem of what to do with the hands is one 
 of the chief causes of nervousness when speaking in 
 public. That is why speakers who are accustomed 
 to speak at a table or desk often fail to do them- 
 selves justice when called upon to speak upon an 
 open platform or from benches such as those in the 
 House of Commons. The real orator never remains 
 long in the same position. He continually suits the 
 action to the word in a natural way suitable to his 
 own personality. For most speakers restrained 
 freedom should be the watchword. Cramped, 
 nervous gestures are not attractive, while on the 
 other hand violent declaration is beyond the scope of 
 the ordinary man. To be effective it must be very 
 well done. 
 
 To sum up : 
 
 (1 ) If possible, prepare what you have to say. 
 [80]
 
 MAXIMS FOR SPEAKERS 
 
 (2) Suit the speech to the occasion, both as to 
 length and matter. 
 
 (3 ) Be natural. Do not think of yourself, but of 
 what you are saying. Do not strive after effect. 
 
 (4) Begin with deliberation and speak dis- 
 tinctly, suiting your voice to the size of the audience. 
 Do not forget the advantage of the pause to enforce 
 important points. 
 
 (5) Remember that in speaking, as in other 
 things, a direct mind and a clear objective are in- 
 valuable assets. Do not be drawn away by small 
 points, and do not pay too much attention to 
 finesse. 
 
 [81]
 
 VI: THE USE OF THE DICTIONARY
 
 VI 
 THE USE OF THE DICTIONARY 
 
 With all thy seeking, wisdom seek. 
 To learn well when and what to speak; 
 And let thy words be few and sound, 
 For life and death in words are found. 
 
 — Old Maxim. 
 
 At a Washington dinner party my attention was 
 forcibly directed to the difficulty of defining words 
 in common use at short notice without the aid of a 
 dictionary. One of the party, which consisted of 
 journalists, offered to make a small bet with each 
 of the other persons present that he could not within 
 three minutes and without reference to a dictionary 
 write down a definition of the word "time." Most 
 of us took the bet and we all lost it. Try the experi- 
 ment without reflection. St. Augustine said of 
 time, "What is it? If unasked I know, if you ask 
 me I know not." 
 
 The truth is that the haphazard definition of 
 words is no easy matter. Indeed, even after mature 
 consideration most of us would find it difficult to 
 define many of the words we are using every day, 
 to say nothing of those with which we have merely a 
 nodding acquaintance. Recently I noticed that 
 
 [85]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 Mr. W. J. Locke, in his admirable novel 'The 
 Mountebank," had launched out into biological 
 phraseology, having used the words "atavism" and 
 "parthenogenesis." As a matter of curiosity I 
 asked several people who had read the book what 
 these words meant. I found that none of them 
 could give me any coherent explanation. Indeed, 
 two of them had not even noticed the words. The 
 inquiring mind in such matters is comparatively 
 rare. Most people use a dictionary chiefly for the 
 purpose of checking their spelling. They seldom 
 consult it in order to ascertain the meaning of 
 words. Thev think that thev understand the mean- 
 ing of those they use themselves, and don't trouble 
 to inquire about the meanings of words used by 
 other people which they do not happen to under- 
 stand. 
 
 Reasoning depends upon the use of names or 
 marks, and unless we adequately comprehend their 
 definite meanings we cannot hope to reason accu- 
 rately. It would of course be possible to reason 
 about things without naming them, but this would 
 be a clumsy method. We should rob ourselves of 
 the classifications and enumerations made by man- 
 kind as a whole, and should have no means of identi- 
 fying our own thoughts. Suppose that every time 
 I had occasion to think of an object I had con- 
 sciously to reassemble all my ideas concerning it, 
 what a burden life would be! The use of a name or 
 [86]
 
 THE USE OF THE DICTIONARY 
 
 mark brings them all back in a flash. As Professor 
 Bain says: "Thoughts of themselves are perpet- 
 ually slipping out of the field of immediate mental 
 vision, but the name abides with us and the utter- 
 ance of it restores them in a moment. Without 
 any formal instruction the language in which we 
 grow up teaches us all the common philosophy of 
 the age. It supplies us with classifications ready 
 made." 
 
 For example, suppose I want to draw a distinc- 
 tion between a room and a cupboard; I might 
 achieve my purpose by showing examples of each 
 and explaining their respective uses and character- 
 istics, but I can save myself the trouble by adopting 
 the ordinary definitions. This, however, implies 
 that I and the person with whom I am discussing 
 rooms and cupboards both understand the mean- 
 ings of the terms, and construe them in the same 
 way. Hence the value of the dictionary which 
 defines the meaning of words, names, or marks as 
 accepted by mankind. 
 
 Serious doubts often occur as to technical terms. 
 Probably little short of £100,000 has been spent in 
 law costs with the object of deciding what consti- 
 tutes a drain and what a sewer, and even now I am 
 told the matter is not free from doubt. In ordinary 
 life it is always well to think of words and to use 
 them in their dictionary sense. This practice leads 
 to continuity of thought and avoids misunderstand- 
 ings. But it must be remembered that words some- 
 
 [87]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 times possess special meanings for certain purposes. 
 Many Acts of Parliament contain what is known 
 as a definition clause, which provides that for the 
 purposes of the Act certain words shall be con- 
 strued in a certain sense. 
 
 Metaphysicians have had prolonged arguments 
 on the subtle question whether words are the names 
 of things themselves or of our ideas of things, but 
 for practical purposes the point is of small impor- 
 tance. It is, however, well to note that while some 
 names imply the existence of things, others merely 
 signify an idea. Take, for example, the words horse 
 and centaur respectively. The former indicates a 
 real animal with all its attributes, whatever they are 
 in fact, while the latter refers to an imaginary crea- 
 ture whose imaginary qualities depend upon the 
 definition of its name. Crudely put, the name is the 
 animal. 
 
 The more precise you want to be the more words 
 you must know, so as to be able to indicate more 
 varieties of the same object with greater precision. 
 But apart from the regions of science a person with 
 a comparatively small vocabulary, who thoroughly 
 understands the signification of the words he uses, 
 and who knows how to use them, is more effective 
 than a person with a larger choice of words, many 
 of which he does not fully appreciate, and whose 
 style is ponderous or involved. 
 
 It must be borne in mind that there are diction- 
 aries and dictionaries. In order to understand the 
 [88]
 
 THE USE OF THE DICTIONARY 
 
 meaning of many words a somewhat elaborate dic- 
 tionary is necessary. Numerous words possess 
 various meanings, and the meanings of words fre- 
 quently change from time to time. To gather dif- 
 ferent shades of meaning it is often necessary to 
 have recourse to an extensive dictionary, such as 
 the monumental and still not quite completed "New 
 English Dictionary," which can be seen in the larger 
 public libraries. With its wealth of quotations it is 
 itself a library. If you examine any page you will 
 be struck by these facts: (1) The extraordinary 
 flexibility and diversity of a large number of words ; 
 (2) the extraordinary way in which the meanings 
 of words have been varied by time; and (3) the 
 paucity of the ordinary man's vocabulary. 
 
 Some time ago President Wilson caused a sensa- 
 tion by the sense in which he used the word per- 
 adventure, and later President Harding threw a 
 small etymological bombshell by using the word 
 "normalcy." Many Americans still think he coined 
 it, but you will find it in "Webster." Clarity of 
 speech has its advantages, but the occasional use of 
 a little-known or inadequately-appreciated word 
 seems to be a useful method of attracting attention 
 to the utterances of the great. 
 
 No house, hotel, or ship should be without a good 
 dictionary, but not necessarily a ponderous one. It 
 is an indispensable book. The possession of a dic- 
 tionary is not, however, sufficient. You must use it. 
 It is a good plan to look up every word you see or 
 
 [89]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 hear, the meaning <>f which you do not understand. 
 If you resolutely follow this practice you will in- 
 crease your knowledge by leaps and bounds. But 
 it is only right to point out that sometimes diction- 
 ary definitions are not illuminating. For example, 
 the definition of "horse" given in Webster's great 
 and invaluable New International Dictionary of 
 the English Language which has recently been 
 brought up to date, is as follows: "A large perisso- 
 dactyl ungulate animal domesticated by man since 
 a prehistoric period and used as a beast of burden, 
 or draft animal, or for riding; by extension, any 
 kind of allied extinct species." This kind of defini- 
 tion used to excite satire, and Dr. Johnson was one 
 of its victims. But his defence was easy and cogent. 
 He pointed out that, while it was desirable to ex- 
 plain a word in terms less abstruse than itself, this 
 is often impossible. To define "horse" satisfactorily 
 you would have to use words too plain to admit of a 
 definition, and such words cannot be found. This 
 difficulty explains his famous definition of net- 
 work; "anything reticulated or decussated with 
 interstices between the intersections." Another and 
 more amusing example of the difficulty of defining 
 the simplest words is the classic story of Plato's 
 definition of man as a two-legged creature without 
 feathers. Diogenes plucked a cock and brought it 
 into the Academy saying, "This is Plato's man." 
 
 [90] 

 
 VII: THE FLY-WHEEL OF CIVILISA- 
 TION: IMPORTANCE OF HABIT
 
 VII 
 
 THE FLY-WHEEL OF CIVILISATION: 
 IMPORTANCE OF HABIT 
 
 All habits gather by unseen degrees, 
 
 As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. 
 
 To prove the force of habit, William James tells 
 a story of a well-trained soldier who was walking 
 across the barrack square with, I think, a pot of 
 beer in his hand, when the sergeant as a joke called 
 out "Attention!" The soldier dropped the beer 
 and obeyed the word of command. This hardly 
 seems credible. Nevertheless, the extent to which 
 habit rules the world is not appreciated. It is true 
 that from time immemorial the force of habit has 
 been recognised and enshrined in popular proverbs, 
 but, as with other well-known truths, familiarity 
 breeds indifference. Few people take the trouble 
 to examine the details and to ascertain the extent 
 to which habit affects their daily lives. It affects 
 them of course both for good and evil. Habit, as 
 such, is neither good nor bad. It may be a strength 
 or it may be a weakness. "Habit is the nursery of 
 errors," says Victor Hugo, but it is just as true to 
 say, with Hazlitt, that "habit is necessary to give 
 power"; and Bacon joins both views in a single 
 
 [93]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 sentence: "Habit, if wisely and skilfully formed, 
 becomes truly a second nature, as the common say- 
 ing is; hut unskilfully and unmethodically directed 
 it will he, as it were, the ape of Nature, which imi- 
 tates nothing to the life, hut only clumsily and 
 awkwardly." 
 
 There are many sorts of habit. The automatic 
 kind, such as the way we walk, the way we talk, the 
 way we hold ourselves, the way we speak, the way 
 we smile or scowl, the way we eat our food, etc. 
 These are partly hereditary and partly acquired by 
 imitation, as in the case of dialects. But we know 
 that most habits of this class can be formed or 
 changed by education. During the war we saw 
 slouching, ungainly men of thirty turned by the 
 drill-sergeant into smart soldiers. It has become 
 a truism to say that children should not be allowed 
 to contract bad types of automatic habits. The 
 substitution of a good for a bad habit involves not 
 only loss of time in life but added nervous strain. 
 The second class may be described as partly auto- 
 matic. For example, writing, the dexterity of the 
 carpenter or mechanic, or the remarkable power 
 acquired by microscopists, referred to by Herbert 
 Spencer: "To move the object under the miscro- 
 scope to the right, the fingers must move to the left, 
 and to move it up they must move down." A more 
 homely example is the dexterity acquired by women 
 in putting hairpins into their hair in front of a 
 looking-glass. All the motions are, of course, re- 
 [94]
 
 THE FLY-WHEEL OF CIVILISATION 
 
 versed. If an inexperienced man tried the experi- 
 ment, he would probably stick the hairpin into his 
 head. 
 
 The third class consists of mental habits: con- 
 centration or non-concentration ; tidiness or untidi- 
 ness; observation or non-observation; and acquired 
 mental aptitude for particular professions or busi- 
 nesses. 
 
 The fourth class comprises habits of life, usually 
 called customs — such as the habit of various classes 
 of the community or of the residents in particular 
 districts to follow certain trades, often unfavour- 
 able or dangerous as compared with others, and also 
 the custom which most people have of continuing to 
 reside where their parents lived before them. Cus- 
 toms of this class are valuable, as they help to steady 
 the world, but they have their dangers. A com- 
 munity unduly shackled by custom makes no prog- 
 ress, and revolutions are often caused by the fail- 
 ure of one class to recognise the necessity for 
 changes due to the aspirations of other classes. 
 Without custom civilisation would fall to pieces, 
 but too great rigidity leads to decay or upheaval. 
 The same applies in commerce and industry. Con- 
 tinuity of policy is an asset, whereas slavish ad- 
 herence to old methods frequently leads to bank- 
 ruptcy. One of the most striking commentaries 
 upon habit was provided by Arnold Bennett and 
 Edward Knoblock's play, "Milestones," which , 
 should be performed regularly for a month every 
 
 [95]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 year to selected audiences of politicians, commercial 
 men, and trade union leaders. 
 
 If we consider the extent to which habit governs 
 our actions we can recognize the accuracy of Wil- 
 liam James's description when he calls it the enor- 
 mous fly-wheel of civilisation. As said in a former 
 chapter, we should endeavour to make our nervous 
 system our ally and not our enemy by cultivating 
 useful habits and passing over to the automatic side 
 of the brain as many mental operations as possible. 
 The importance of habit arises from the fact that 
 when the brain receives the signal A, the sequence 
 B, C, D and so on follow without further conscious 
 mental effort. That makes life easier and leaves 
 more time and energy for thought and conscious 
 action. 
 
 But, like most things, even good habits have their 
 dangers. Habit leads to rigidity. We all know 
 the troublesome old gentleman who is an intolerable 
 nuisance because he is so precise and regards any 
 deviation from his routine as a terrible grievance. 
 His pen must be in its place, so must his slippers; 
 his meals must be served to the minute, etc. Even 
 good habits must be kept in order; the fly-wheel 
 must not be allowed to drive the machine. This is 
 the business of the driver — the mysterious entity we 
 call the "ego" — the sentient thinking being within 
 you that controls your destiny. The driver of the 
 human machine must watch all parts of his engine, 
 physical and mental. Habits have no eyes. They 
 [96]
 
 THE FLY-WHEEL OF CIVILISATION 
 
 do not see the danger ahead. That is the driver's 
 duty. 
 
 For example, the habit of concentration is valu- 
 able, but a man may over-concentrate on business 
 or other matters. It is for the ego to see that bal- 
 ance is preserved. Even the habit of personal clean- 
 liness may be overdone. A person may become so 
 meticulous as to consider two baths and several 
 washings a day essential. Here the ego should 
 step in and exercise its judgment. It should say, 
 "You are making a fool of yourself. You are wast- 
 ing your time. You are becoming luxurious and 
 pernickety. Look here, Mr. Habit; you must cut 
 down your appropriation of my daily time and 
 energy. You must limit your activities to one bath 
 and so many washings." 
 
 Circumstances and customs change, and we must 
 be prepared to modify our habits accordingly. But 
 do not become an introspectionist — a mental vale- 
 tudinarian — always probing into our own mind and 
 reviewing your habits. Observe other people's 
 habits and try to form a judgment on their desir- 
 ability -or otherwise. Unconsciously that will lead 
 you to do the right thing, or what you think is the 
 right thing. It is a question of judgment and ob- 
 servation. If you notice that a friend stoops, bites 
 his nails, lacks concentration, etc., that will lead you 
 almost unconsciously to examine your own habits 
 and to ascertain whether you suffer from similar 
 
 [971
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 defects. But don't run away with the idea that 
 the same habits suit every one. 
 
 Take for example the arrangement of papers. 
 The late Lord Halsbury was famed for the clear- 
 ness of his mind, and for his power of setting forth 
 complicated facts and arguments in lucid form. 
 If, however, you had seen him in the House of 
 Lords, preparing to deliver judgment, the way in 
 which he handled his papers must have reminded 
 you of a witch stirring her cauldron. You would 
 say to yourself, "What a horrible muddle this old 
 gentleman is going to make of things I" Not at 
 all. He would at once proceed to deliver, often 
 without a note, a most lucid judgment expressed 
 in beautiful language. On seeing this performance, 
 a young man might well say, "Evidently the right 
 way is to keep your papers in a muddle!" We all 
 know that he would be wrong, and that tidiness 
 leads to a tidy mind, and tidy thinking. He would 
 overlook the fact that Lord Halsbury was an ex- 
 ceptional man, with vast experience, and would 
 forget that while scaffolding is necessary for the 
 construction of an edifice, it can be cast away when 
 the building is constructed. 
 
 By dint of practice, many great men have learned 
 the art of doing their tidying in their minds. It is 
 there they arrange the facts and arguments, oblivi- 
 ous of the conditions of the papers in which they are 
 expressed. But if you were to make inquiries you 
 would probably find that in their early days they 
 [98]
 
 THE FLY-WHEEL OF CIVILISATION 
 
 were methodical. The keeping of papers usually 
 involves physical trouble. Many people, as they 
 grow older, become more energetic mentally and 
 less physically. They hate to be bothered with petty 
 details, but their minds are so trained that they can 
 observe and classify facts and arguments with very 
 little difficulty. The most important thing in life 
 is good judgment. The wise man forms right habits 
 in the right way. But it must be confessed that 
 there are many habits that are not quite good which 
 are very pleasant. For example, smoking. Prob- 
 ably most people would be better if they did not 
 smoke, but those addicted to this habit generally 
 consider the resulting pleasure outweighs the dis- 
 advantages. We ought not, however, to humbug 
 ourselves about habits. If we pursue a bad habit 
 because we like it, we may just as well admit that 
 it is bad, and the habit must be kept in check, so 
 that if and when necessary the ego may seize and 
 throttle it. Otherwise it may seize and throttle 
 the ego. Or, to return to William James's meta- 
 phor, the fly-wheel may "bust" the machine. As 
 Cicero says, it is a great thing to know our own 
 vices. 
 
 Quoting from Professor Bain, William James 
 gives three maxims for acquiring a new habit or 
 leaving off an old one. 
 
 One. We must take care to launch ourselves 
 with as strong and decided an initiative as possible. 
 He means that we must accumulate the best pos- 
 
 [99]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 sible conditions to enable us to carry out the resolu- 
 tions determined upon, so us to make the new way 
 easy. For example, it' we want to give up smoking, 
 
 we must banish tobacco from the house. It may, 
 however, be noted here that there is another and 
 more heroic method — viz., to withstand and to con- 
 quer temptation in a glaring form. When M. Cle- 
 menceau decided to abandon smoking in the inter- 
 ests of health, he placed an open box of the best 
 cigars he could get on the table in front of him, 
 and left it there for a fortnight, making up his mind 
 firmly that he would not touch a cigar. Being a 
 man of strong will, he "won out," as the Americans 
 say, and has never smoked since. I do not advise 
 this method for ordinary people. Most of us would 
 have found our fingers stealing towards the box. 
 
 Two. Never suffer an exception to occur till the 
 new habit is securely rooted in your life. Each 
 lapse is like letting fall a ball of string which one is 
 carefully winding up. A single slip undoes more 
 than many turns will wind again. 
 
 Three. Seize the first possible opportunity to 
 act on every resolution you make, and on every emo- 
 tional prompting you may experience in the direc- 
 tion of the habit you aspire to gain. The actual 
 presence of the practical opportunity alone fur- 
 nishes the fulcrum upon which the lever can rest, by 
 means of which the moral will may multiply its 
 strength and raise itself aloft. Gestures are no 
 good. Actions are necessary. 
 [100]
 
 VIII: HOW TO THINK
 
 VIII 
 HOW TO THINK 
 
 The mind's the standard of the man. 
 
 — Isaac Watts. 
 
 It is the mind that makes the man. 
 
 — Ovid. 
 
 Every one should study the principles of evidence 
 and reasoning. I refer to the method of ascertain- 
 ing and verifying facts and the inferences to be 
 drawn from them when ascertained. Questions of 
 evidence are continually presenting themselves to 
 every human being. Jeremy Bentham has a nice 
 little passage about this: 
 
 "Domestic management turns upon evidence. 
 Whether the leg of mutton now on the spit be 
 roasted enough is a question of evidence ; a question 
 of which the cook is judge. The meat is done 
 enough ; the meat is not done enough ; these opposite 
 facts, the one positive, the other negative, are the 
 principal facts — the facts sought ; evidentiary facts, 
 i.e., those on which the principal facts depend, the 
 present state of the fire, the time that has elapsed 
 since the putting down of the meat, the state of the 
 fire at different points during that length of time, 
 
 [103]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 the appearance of the meat, together with other 
 points, perhaps out of Dumber, the development of 
 which might occupy pages upon pages, but which 
 the cook decides in the cook's way, if as by instinct, 
 deciding upon evidence, as Monsieur Jourdain 
 talked prose, without having ever heard of any such 
 word, perhaps, in the whole course of her life. 
 
 "Questions in natural philosophy, questions in 
 natural history, questions in technology in all its 
 branches, questions in medicine, are all questions of 
 evidence. When we use the words observation, ex- 
 perience, and experiment, what we mean is, facts 
 observed, or supposed to be observed, by ourselves 
 or others, either as they arise spontaneously, or after 
 the bodies in question have been put, for the pur- 
 pose, into a certain situation." 
 
 Some people reason accurately by nature, but 
 most think loosely, except, perhaps, in relation to 
 their own business. There are different methods 
 of improving the reasoning powers. You can study 
 mathematics or formal logic, but many persons 
 trained in these subjects are poor reasoners con- 
 cerning the ordinary affairs of life. This is because 
 they do not try to use the implements at their com- 
 mand. A youth often regards mathematics as a 
 special subject, dealing with imaginary technical 
 symbols and having no relation to other subjects. 
 He does not consciously apply the principles 
 learned to the ordinary questions of life. The same 
 may be said in a less degree of formal logic. One 
 [104]
 
 HOW TO THINK 
 
 of the best methods of training the mind is to study 
 the principles of legal evidence. 
 
 Burke was of this opinion. He described the law 
 as "science which does more to quicken and invigor- 
 ate the understanding than all the other kinds of 
 learning put together." (He added, with much 
 sagacity, that "it is not apt, except in persons very 
 happily born, to open and liberalise the mind in ex- 
 actly the same proportion.") Lord Morley is of 
 the same opinion. He once recommended a study 
 of legal methods of reasoning "to open plain men's 
 eyes to the logical pitfalls among which they go 
 stumbling and crashing, when they think they are 
 disputing like Socrates or reasoning like Newton. 
 They would thus see how a proposition or an ex- 
 pression that looks straightforward and unmistak- 
 able is yet on examination found to be capable of 
 bearing several distinct interpretations and mean- 
 ing several distinct things; how the same evidence 
 may warrant different conclusions, and what kinds 
 of evidence carry with them what degrees of va- 
 lidity; how certain sorts of facts can be proved in 
 only one way, and certain other sorts of facts in 
 some other way ; how necessary it is, before you set 
 out, to know exactly what it is you intend to show, 
 or what it is you intend to dispute ; how there may be 
 many argumentative objections to a proposition, 
 yet the balance be in favour of its adoption." 
 
 All this does not mean that I ask you to go deeply 
 into the law, or to suggest that in order to under- 
 
 [105]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 stand the values of evidence you must make yourself 
 a sort of semi-lawyer. For countless centuries Law 
 Courts have been schools of practical reasoning 
 about practical things. Indeed, in their very na- 
 ture, they are a nursery of reasoning and a sort 
 of analytical laboratory of evidence, and there is 
 a great deal to be learned from their methods by 
 the average man. 
 
 Of course there is no intention to minimise the 
 importance of mathematics and logic as methods of 
 strengthening the reasoning powers. For many 
 purposes, such as scientific investigation, they are 
 indispensable. But for the man engaged in the 
 ordinary avocations of life I recommend a study of 
 the rules of evidence, as they obtain in the Law 
 Courts. 
 
 One. Because they relate to the actual affairs of 
 life and are therefore better suited than abstractions 
 for dealing with everyday problems. 
 
 Two. Because logic deals with the inferences to 
 be drawn from premises which may be true or false, 
 whereas the lawyer is chiefly concerned in ascer- 
 taining what the premises, or to use another word, 
 the facts, really are. I think it was Sir James 
 Mackintosh who said that "Men fall into a thou- 
 sand errors by reasoning from false premises to 
 fifty they make from wrong inferences from prem- 
 ises they employ." 
 
 Three. Because it is easier for the ordinary man 
 who reads only for relaxation to assimilate them. 
 [106]
 
 HOW TO THINK 
 
 My object, then, is to supply the information 
 indicated by Lord Morley. In daily life it is impos- 
 sible to apply the strict legal rules of evidence, but, 
 as I have shown, it is well to bear them in mind. 
 It is also well to remember that many people have 
 a pernicious habit of confusing their inferences and 
 the facts on which they are based. Many false and 
 misleading stories are due to this. Suppose, for 
 example, that Mrs. Brown sees Mr. Jones and Mrs. 
 Smith continually walking and motoring together. 
 Unconsciously applying the theory of probability, 
 she scents a scandal, and thereupon tells Mrs. Tom- 
 kins that Mrs. Smith is too intimate with Mr. Jones. 
 In short, Mrs. Brown does not discriminate between 
 her facts and her inferences, which may be errone- 
 ous. She does not tell Mrs. Tomkins what she saw. 
 She relates the impression which she derived from 
 what she saw. 
 
 To give another example of this wide-spread and 
 insidious habit. Stewart calls on Mackenzie, whom 
 he does not know, and from seeing in the latter s 
 house a number of medical books wrongly assumes 
 him to be a doctor. Stewart is proving too much. 
 He says what he belives to be true, but he has made 
 the blunder of stating as a fact what is only an in- 
 ference drawn from facts which are capable of 
 grounding more than one inference. He selects 
 the inference that appeals to him, and then com- 
 municates it to a listening world as a fact. The 
 
 [107]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 question. How do you know? in a more polite and 
 indirect form is a useful probe. 
 
 Lawyers do not deal with abstractions, but with 
 facts — usually interesting in themselves. Apart 
 from actual cases it is amusing to apply principles 
 of legal evidence to literary incidents. Pitt-Tay- 
 lor's voluminous treatise on Evidence contains nu- 
 merous references of this sort. In discussing cir- 
 cumstantial evidence he points out how in "Mac- 
 beth" Lenox, Macduff, and the other chieftains 
 erroneously assumed that the grooms had murdered 
 the King, because "their hands and faces were all 
 liadged with blood, so were their daggers which un- 
 wiped we found upon their pillows," and next that 
 "they were suborned" by the King's two sons, who 
 had "stolen away and fled." Again, take Iago's 
 story of the handkerchief which goaded Othello to 
 madness : 
 
 Iago: Have you not sometimes seen a handkerhcief, spotted 
 with strawberries, in your wife's hand? 
 
 Othello: I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift. 
 
 Iago: I knew not that, but such a handkerchief (I am sure 
 it was your wife's) did I to-day see Cassio wipe his beard with. 
 
 Othello: If it be that 
 
 Iago: If it be that, or any that was hers, It speaks against 
 her, with the other proofs. 
 
 Othello: Oh! that the slave had forty thousand lives 
 
 One is too poor, too weak for my revenge ! Now do I see 'tis 
 true. 
 
 So, when Jacob saw Joseph's coat of many colours, 
 stained with kid's blood, "he knew it, and said, 'It 
 
 [108]
 
 HOW TO THINK 
 
 is my son's coat; an evil beast hath devoured him; 
 Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.' " The stu- 
 dent will discover the difference between direct, cir- 
 cumstantial, primary, and secondary evidence. He 
 will find that human reasoning depends upon the 
 detection of similarities and dissimilarities, and the 
 estimation of probabilities. He will find that law- 
 yers do not draw inferences from a fact until it has 
 been proved, in which respect most people are con- 
 stant offenders. He will also learn that hearsay 
 evidence is not to be trusted, and that the opinion 
 of fanatics corresponds with the apostle's definition 
 of faith — "The substance of things hoped for, the 
 evidence of things not seen." 
 
 [109]
 
 IX: HOW TO JUDGE THINGS
 
 IX 
 
 HOW TO JUDGE THINGS 
 
 Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh, 
 
 And sees fast by a butcher with an axe, 
 
 But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter? 
 
 Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest 
 
 But may imagine how the bird was dead, 
 
 Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak? 
 
 — William Shakespeare. 
 
 You would doubtless assume that the butcher had 
 killed the heifer, and that, notwithstanding his un- 
 bloodied beak, the kite was the delinquent. But 
 both your assumptions might be wrong. The heifer 
 might have been killed by another butcher, and the 
 partridge might have been killed by the kite's mate. 
 To put the matter in legal terms, there would be 
 a prima facie case against the butcher or the kite 
 requiring strong evidence to refute it. But there 
 is often the one fact more that makes the difference, 
 and it is unwise to jump to conclusions. However, 
 as Butler said, probability is the guide of life. 
 
 Hour by hour you are estimating chances or giv- 
 ing or taking odds. In the morning when you start 
 to catch your train, you know that you can walk to 
 the station in say, ten minutes, and that the train 
 starts in fifteen. The odds are five hundred to one 
 
 [113]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 that you will catch it, but there is the one chance. 
 Something may unexpectedly occur that will pre- 
 vent you. If you start on a long motor journey you 
 assume that you will reach your destination in a 
 given time, but the odds are much less because the 
 uncertain factors are greater in number. Every 
 commercial venture is based on probability, and in 
 most cases of disputed fact judges and juries have 
 to decide not what is certain, but what is probable. 
 
 There is a marked difference between judging 
 things of the past and things of the future. The 
 necessity for relying upon probability in the case 
 of doubtful past happenings, is due to ignorance, 
 which may at any moment be diminished by fresh 
 evidence. In the case of the future, although in 
 many instances past experience enables us to pro- 
 phesy more or less accurately, yet most prophecies 
 are shots in the dark. 
 
 In estimating the value of conflicting evidence, 
 you should assume that most people are truthful. 
 If it were otherwise, the world would become a 
 huge madhouse. Inaccuracy is more common than 
 untruthfulness, and exaggeration or the suppres- 
 sion of awkward facts more frequent than substan- 
 tive lies. As Lord Brougham said, "Untruthful 
 witnesses usually interlace reality with fiction," or 
 as Tennyson puts it : 
 
 A lie which is half a truth 
 Is ever the blackest of lies. 
 
 [114]
 
 HOW TO JUDGE THINGS 
 
 A lie which is all a lie 
 
 May be met and fought with outright; 
 But a lie which is part a truth 
 
 Is a harder matter to fight. 
 
 Conspiracies to suppress or pervert the truth are 
 common, but most hard swearing is done from a 
 sense of partisanship. You should not lose sight 
 of the fact that human nature is prone to take sides. 
 If a taxicab has a collision the occupants of the cab 
 usually side with the driver, and the residents in a 
 house usually stand by one of their number involved 
 in legal proceedings. This is an amiable quality, 
 but such evidence requires to be discounted. There 
 is another and less likeable type of person who 
 starts with a bias against his own countrymen, his 
 fellowtownsmen, or, generally speaking, those 
 whom he might be expected to support. As W. S. 
 Gilbert describes him : 
 
 The idiot who praises with enthusiastic tone 
 
 Every century but this and every country but his own. 
 
 People of this class have perverted minds, and their 
 evidence demands careful scrutiny. 
 
 Prejudice is another fruitful cause of inaccuracy. 
 Most people, you will find, are biased in favour of 
 their own class, and persons who are strong advo- 
 cates of theories or movements are apt to manipu- 
 late facts. 
 
 Statistics need to be carefully examined. Take, 
 for example, those relating to drunkenness. Official 
 
 [115]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 figures show certain rates of convictions in different 
 towns, but nothing is said regarding the varying 
 praetiee of the police in different places in arresting 
 and charging drunken persons or of magistrates in 
 convicting persons charged. 
 
 Percentage dodges are common. Most of us 
 know the story of the man who complained to the 
 waiter in an American restaurant about the taste of 
 the sausage he was eating. "It seems rather like 
 horsemeat," he said. "Yes," replied the waiter, "we 
 always make our sausages fifty-fifty (half and 
 half)." "What on earth does that mean exactly?" 
 inquired the bewildered and suspicious customer. 
 "I guess," said the waiter, "one horse to one rabbit." 
 
 Adopting the same interesting method, I may say 
 "The ever-increasing popularity of chest-expand- 
 ers, and of Snook's Chest Expanders in particular, 
 may be judged from the remarkable fact that 50 
 per cent, of the inhabitants of Bunkumville who 
 use this valuable adjunct to health and personal 
 beauty wear Snook's Expanders, which are un- 
 doubtedly the best." That may be true, but I omit 
 to mention that only two persons in Bunkumville 
 w r ear chest expanders, one of whom is Snooks him- 
 self. Fifty-fifty is correct but misleading in this 
 case also. My statement contains two fallacies. 
 One, that the preponderance of the Snooks Ex- 
 pander has any relation to the growing use of ex- 
 panders in general, and, two, that any reliable de- 
 [116]
 
 HOW TO JUDGE THINGS 
 
 duction can be drawn from such inadequate prem- 
 ises. 
 
 The following are the most important points to 
 be ascertained in deciding upon the credibility of 
 witnesses: First, whether they have the means of 
 gaining correct information; second, whether they 
 have any interest in concealing the truth or propa- 
 gating falsehood, and third, whether they agree 
 in their testimony. To this may be added that, 
 in judging doubtful evidence, care should be taken 
 to ascertain whether collateral facts, proved or ad- 
 mitted, tend to confirm it. For example, suppose 
 A alleges that he had an interview with B at a 
 certain time and place. B denies that the inter- 
 view occurred. C proves that he saw A in the 
 neighbourhood of the alleged place of meeting 
 shortly before the time named by A. If C appears 
 to be an honest witness, his evidence will strengthen 
 A's case. 
 
 Proposals have been made by eminent persons for 
 valuing evidence by mathematical methods, in the 
 same way that actuaries prepare life insurance 
 tables. But obviously there is no analogy between 
 the two. Life insurance tables are based on well- 
 established and carefully tabulated facts. From 
 these the actuary draws certain conclusions. In 
 the affairs of ordinary life, or in the Law Courts, 
 the difficulty is to ascertain the facts. As Laplace 
 said, "How can you frame a mathematical formula 
 
 [117]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 when you are dealing with passions, personal in- 
 terests, and complicated circumstances?" 
 
 Many learned people have devoted themselves to 
 the study of probabilities, and there is a considerable 
 literature upon the subject, the details of which are 
 to be found in a recent book by Mr. J. M. Keynes, 
 "A treatise on Probability." Much of this learn- 
 ing deals with mathematical expectation in regard 
 to games of chance, life assurance, and other similar 
 matters, but suggestions have been made for apply- 
 ing the same kinds of calculation to the conduct of 
 life by measuring alternative courses of action. You 
 decide by the measurement of probable results 
 whether a certain step will lead you forward on the 
 strait and thorny path, or whether it will cause you 
 to side-step and go down the broad highway. It 
 is no part of my purpose, however, to deal with 
 these various aspects of probability. My obser- 
 vations are limited to probability, as applied to 
 judging evidence in the Law Courts and in every- 
 day life. 
 
 Serious difficulties arise when you are required to 
 decide upon alleged facts which from their nature 
 seem improbable. Where does reasonable belief end 
 and credulity begin ? This is one of the eternal pro- 
 blems of humanity by which we are constantly con- 
 fronted. Our attitude of mind in this respect gov- 
 erns our daily lives and our religious beliefs. A 
 Court of Law accepts the established order of na- 
 ture at the date of the inquiry, but is ready to 
 [118]
 
 HOW TO JUDGE THINGS 
 
 consider evidence of new discoveries pertinent to the 
 issue to be tried. Suppose that one hundred years 
 ago a witness had alleged that he had received a 
 message through the air from a place three thou- 
 sand miles away. The Court would not have ac- 
 cepted such a statement in the absence of over- 
 whelming proof. But if the necessary evidence 
 had been forthcoming the fact would have been 
 recognised, notwithstanding its antecedent improb- 
 ability. The credulous do not discriminate between 
 the probable and the improbable, and are prone to 
 accept romantic stories on the faith of inadequate 
 evidence or statements unworthy to be described 
 as such. Distance — in time or place — adds en- 
 chantment to the view. A man who would not be- 
 lieve the story of an alleged miracle in his own 
 village will readily accept the narrative of one stated 
 to have occurred in a far-distant country hundreds 
 of years ago. 
 
 Instances of inaccurate statements concerning 
 historical events are numberless. Several are col- 
 lected in Wills's "Circumstantial Evidence." Lord 
 Clarendon relates that the Marquess of Argyll was 
 condemned to be hanged, and that the sentence was 
 performed on the same day. Burnet, Woodrow, 
 and Echard, writers of good authority who lived 
 near the time, state that he was beheaded, and that 
 the sentence was pronounced on Saturday and car- 
 ried into effect on the Monday following. Differ- 
 ent accounts have been given of the movements of 
 
 [119]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 diaries II after his flight from Worcester. Some 
 writers state that he embarked at Brighthelmstone 
 and others at New Shorehani. Some say that Pym 
 died in May, 1G43, while others give the following 
 years as the date. Clarendon dishonestly states that 
 Pym died of a loathsome disease, evidently with 
 the idea of propagating the opinion that it was a 
 mark of Divine vengeance, whereas he must have 
 known that the corpse was exposed to public view 
 for several days before interment in order to refute 
 this calumnious statement. 
 
 There is a general disposition to attach undue 
 importance to the printed word. People will credit 
 anonymous statements in print which they would 
 not believe if made verbally by people whom they 
 know. Even printed statements that are true are 
 often misleading, because they do not convey the 
 right impression. When you read the account of 
 a breach of promise or divorce case containing a 
 number of passionate, well-expressed, romantic let- 
 ters, you insensibly associate with the story a fitting 
 hero and heroine — a handsome man and a beautiful 
 woman. Had you been present in the Court, and 
 had you seen the parties and heard the evidence, you 
 would probably have considered the whole business 
 sordid and commonplace. 
 
 [120]
 
 X: CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
 
 X 
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE 
 
 The network of facts . . . may come to nothing, 
 on the other hand it may be absolutely convincing. 
 
 — Lord Coleridge 
 
 I have dealt with the general laws of probability. 
 I turn to concrete evidence and the consideration 
 of its values. 
 
 A fact may be proved in two ways, (1) by the 
 evidence of witnesses who can speak from personal 
 knowledge, or (2) by inference from other facts 
 satisfactorily established. The former method of 
 proof is called "direct," the latter "indirect" or 
 "circumstantial." 
 
 A is charged with murdering B. C and D prove 
 that they saw A stab B. This would be direct proof. 
 On the other hand, suppose that no eye-witness were 
 present. The prosecution prove (1) that A and 
 B had been on bad terms, (2) that A had been heard 
 to say that he would get his own back on B, (3) 
 that A had been seen near the place where the 
 murder was committed at about the time when it 
 took place, (4) that human blood had been found 
 on A' clothes, (5) that he had given a false account 
 of his movements on the day in question. The in- 
 
 [123]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 ference from this body of facts would be that A 
 was the murderer. This would he a case of indirect 
 or circumstantial evidence. 
 
 You must understand that although evidence of 
 this class is exclusively associated in the non-legal 
 mind with the administration of the criminal law it 
 is used quite as freely and subject to the samt rules 
 in civil cases. Furthermore, many decisions in the 
 ordinary affairs of a man's life depend upon circum- 
 stantial evidence. Thus, (1) if mother finds that a 
 pot of raspberry jam in the pantry has been rifled, 
 and (2) if little Willie is discovered with remnants 
 of raspberry jam on his pinafore, and (3) if no 
 raspberry jam has been served out for the use of the 
 nursery, the inference is that little Willie is the 
 culprit. Or — to take an amusing example from 
 Thoreau; "Circumstantial evidence is very strong, 
 as when you find a trout in the milk." Therefore, 
 although we may have no special interest in legal 
 affairs, it is well to understand the principles which 
 govern the valuation of circumstantial evidence. 
 
 Before dealing with the comparative values of 
 direct and indirect evidence I will summarise the 
 account of the trial of Madeline Smith, one of the 
 most romantic and notable criminal cases of the last 
 century. It is a good example of a prosecution 
 founded exclusively upon circumstantial evidence, 
 and will help the reader to grasp more readily the 
 characteristics of this method of proof: 
 [124]
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE 
 
 At the date of the trial in 1857 Madeline Smith was aged 
 twenty-one, her father being a Glasgow architect of good 
 social position. She was fascinating, well educated, accom- 
 plished, and popular with her friends, as will appear here- 
 after. She possessed an ardent temperament, coupled with 
 remarkable resolution and force of character. She was charged 
 with the murder of a young Frenchman, Emile L'Angelier, 
 to whom she had been introduced two years earlier. Their in- 
 timacy had speedily developed, and a secret courtship was 
 followed by an illicit amour, begun in May, 1856. Meanwhile 
 Madeline's parents had become aware of her relations with 
 L'Angelier, and had forbidden her to communicate with him 
 on the ground that his social rank was lower than that of 
 the Smith family. For this, and other and better reasons, 
 they did not regard him as a suitable husband for their at- 
 tractive daughter. 
 
 In January, 1857, Miss Madeline's affections began to cool. 
 Probably believing that she was about to become a mother, 
 she became engaged to a man much older than herself, but 
 in other respects desirable. During her lovemaking with 
 L'Angelier she had written him some eighty letters of a pas- 
 sionate and compromising character, some grossly indecent, 
 but all expressing the intensity of her devotion. They are 
 difficult to describe. In February, 1857, she told L'Angelier 
 of her altered feelings, and asked him to return her corre- 
 spondence. He declined. He said she was his wife, as per- 
 haps she was according to Scotch law. He threatened to 
 show her letters to her father and to her new lover. 
 
 On February 8 she made a frantic appeal to L'Angelier not 
 to dishonour her, and denying the engagement to the other man 
 she proposed a resumption of relations with L'Angelier. He 
 gladly assented. It had been her custom on convenient oc- 
 casions to admit him to her father's house after the family had 
 gone to bed, and, before his departure, to make him coffee 
 or cocoa early. In the same month, February, she had at- 
 tempted to buy prussic acid. 
 
 L'Angelier visited her on February 11, and was taken seri- 
 ously ill on his return home. On the 18th Madeline purchased 
 arsenic openly in her own name, but under false pretences 
 as to its intended use. On the 22nd L'Angelier paid her an- 
 other visit and was again taken seriously ill. On March 6 
 
 [125]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 Madeline purchased still more arsenic. L'Angclier visited 
 her yi t again with tin- same sequel. 
 
 Then Bhe writes to him calling him to come to her once 
 more. This letter plainly shows ber powera as a correspond- 
 <"t. It --I" murdered him, what a terrible commentary on 
 human natur- ' 
 
 "Why. my beloved, did you not come to me? Oh, beloved, 
 are you ill? Come to me, sweet one. I waited and waited lor 
 you, hut you came not. I shall wait again to-morrow night 
 at the same hour and with the same arrangement. Do come, 
 sweet love, my own dear love of a sweetheart, come beloved 
 and clasp me to your heart. . . . Come and we shall be 
 happy. A kiss and fond love. Adieu ! with tender embraces 
 
 "Ever believe me to be your own ever dear fond 
 
 "Mimi." 
 
 On March 22 L'Angelier, only too eager, went to visit 
 her, returned home seriously ill, and died in a few hours. 
 
 She had purchased still more arsenic on March 18, and the 
 post-mortem showed that death was due to this drug, of which 
 a large quantity was found in the body. But Madeline's 
 letters were her undoing. On being interrogated, she denied 
 she had seen L'Angelier for three weeks before his death. The 
 evidence for the defence showed that some years earlier the 
 deceased had spoken about the use of arsenic, and had then 
 had arsenic in his possession. It was also suggested that Miss 
 Smith had bought the drug for complexion purposes. The 
 jury found the verdict "Not Proven." During the trial the 
 prisoner exhibited an undaunted and defiant attitude, and 
 with perfect composure searched every corner of the Court 
 with her great fierce dark eyes. 
 
 She afterwards married, had children, and lived to be eighty. 
 
 I believe some people will say that Madeline 
 Smith had a lucky escape; but, a pretty woman is 
 often lucky in Law Courts as well as elsewhere, 
 particularly when she has nerves of steel and a 
 constitution of Scotch granite. 
 [126]
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE 
 
 If you carefully examine this case (there is a 
 full report in the "Notable British Trials" series), 
 you will see that the evidence was entirely circum- 
 stantial, and was built up on the motive, the pur- 
 chases of poison, and the illnesses of the deceased 
 following on his visits. 
 
 The comparative values of direct and circum- 
 stantial proof have been much discussed. In the 
 earlier parts of the last century, when the public 
 took more interest in legal subjects than they do 
 now, it was common to hear even working men 
 eagerly debating whether murder convictions should 
 be allowed exclusively on circumstantial evidence. 
 To-day the question has ceased to be of interest. 
 It should, however, be stated that the arguments 
 concerning circumstantial evidence were not all 
 on one side. Bentham, who by his writings did so 
 much to improve the administration of the law, con- 
 tended that circumstantial was to be preferred to 
 direct evidence. The contention was that witnesses 
 may lie, whereas circumstances never do. This 
 means, in other words, that proof of a main fact by 
 a chain of subsidiary facts is more reliable than the 
 evidence of witnesses who testify to the main fact 
 of their own knowledge. Four persons are in a 
 room — A, B, C, and D. B stabs A, and conspires 
 with C to charge D with the crime. If the con- 
 spiracy is well devised D may easily be convicted. 
 Or to take another instance of the danger of direct 
 evidence. Many innocent persons have suffered 
 
 [127]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 owing to wrong identification. Mistakes of this 
 sort are easily made. The criminal is seen by the 
 witnesses for a few minutes only. Later suspicion 
 falls on some person who is arrested and put up 
 for identification. Meanwhile the witnesses have 
 been privately questioned by the police as to the 
 characteristics of the man who committed the crime. 
 Was he wearing a cap? Had he a moustache? 
 Was he sallow-faced ? etc., etc. These inquiries lead 
 the mind insensibly to form definite in place of 
 doubtful conceptions, and when a person is pro- 
 duced who fills the bill the witnesses are apt to say 
 "Thou art the man." 
 
 There have been numerous cases of mistaken 
 identity. One of the most notable in recent years 
 is that of Mr. Beck, thus described in Best "On 
 Evidence": 
 
 "In 1877 a man who called himself John Smith was con- 
 victed at the Old Bailey for frauds on women. His methods 
 were to introduce himself as Lord Willoughby, a nobleman 
 of wealth, with an establishment in St. John's Wood, and 
 offer the position of mistress to his victim. He would then 
 suggest that she would require a new outfit, write out an order 
 on some well-known tradesman at whose shop she was to 
 purchase what was required, and give her a cheque on a 
 non-existing bank, as the Bank of London. He would then 
 on some pretext borrow some article of jewellery, with which 
 he decamped. He was sentenced to five years' penal servi- 
 tude, but released on licence in April, 1881. 
 
 "Towards the end of 1894 the police received complaints 
 from various women of similar frauds, and in December, 1895, 
 a woman met Mr. Beck in Victoria Street, and charged him 
 with having robbed her, though he protested that he had never 
 seen her before. A large number of the women who had 
 
 [128]
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE 
 
 complained to the police were then given opportunities, in 
 the ordinary way, of seeing Mr. Beck, to ascertain whether 
 they could identify him as the man who had defrauded them. 
 Of these many with varying degrees of confidence testified 
 against him at the police-court, and he was committed for 
 trial at the Westminster Police-Court, tried at the Old Bailey 
 in March, 1896 (his main defence being that the real offender 
 was the man convicted in 1877, and that he was not that man) 
 and sentenced to seven years' penal servitude. He petitioned 
 at once, and frequently afterwards, but without success, for 
 a reopening of the case on the ground of its being one of 
 mistaken identity. He was released on licence in 1901 — and 
 in April, 1904, was again arrested on a charge similar to 
 those on which he had been convicted in 1896. He was tried 
 before Mr. Justice Grantham, and again convicted, both of 
 the offences charged and of having been convicted of similar 
 offences in 1896. Mr. Justice Grantham, however, having 
 misgivings upon the case, postponed sentence till the next 
 session, and none was ever pronounced, as in the meantime the 
 arrest of the ex-convict Smith on similar charges, based on 
 acts committed while Mr. Beck was in custody, led to fur- 
 ther inquiries and the consequent release and pardon of Mr. 
 Beck in respect of both the 1896 and 1904 convictions. Smith 
 was soon afterwards tried before Mr. Justice Phillimore, and 
 sentenced on September 15, 1904, to five years' penal servi- 
 tude. It was impossible that Smith and Mr. Beck could have 
 been the same person, as Smith was circumcised and Mr. Beck 
 was not. Mr. Beck was doubly pardoned; and £5,000 com- 
 pensation awarded to him by the Treasury. 
 
 >» 
 
 But notwithstanding all defects in direct evi- 
 dence, judges very properly regard it as superior 
 to circumstantial evidence. Happily few cases de- 
 pend exclusively upon direct or indirect evidence. 
 A combination of the two is usually available. Cir- 
 cumstantial like direct evidence depends upon the 
 truthfulness of witnesses, and, in addition, the 
 Court is required to draw an inference from the 
 
 [129]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 facts proved in order to arrive at a decision. If 
 the prosecution endeavours to establish by circum- 
 stantial evidence that A murdered B the Court must 
 not only satisfy itself that the facts alleged have 
 been proved, but also that they justify the inference 
 (i.e. show) that A committed the crime. Cases 
 based exclusively upon circumstantial evidence are 
 regarded with caution, because of the tendency of 
 mankind to form theories, and when formed to en- 
 deavour to support them by emphasising convenient 
 facts or by excluding those that are inconvenient. 
 Judge Pitt Taylor, in his remarkable book on "Evi- 
 dence," says: 
 
 In truth, the only "circumstances which cannot lie" are 
 those which necessarily lead to a certain conclusion. Who 
 is to decide on this necessity? Clearly those who have also to 
 decide on the fact in issue. Besides, these very circumstances 
 must be proved, like direct facts, by witnesses, who are equally 
 capable with others of deceiving or being deceived. In no 
 sense, therefore, is it possible to say that a conclusion drawn 
 from circumstantial evidence can amount to absolute certainty, 
 or, in other words, that circumstances cannot lie. 
 
 "Uncle Remus" contains a striking instance of 
 the fallibility of circumstantial evidence. When 
 Brer Rabbit stole the butter intended for the lunch 
 of himself and the other animals who were harvest- 
 ing, in order to conceal the theft he smeared some 
 of the butter upon the whiskers of Brer Possum, 
 who was sleeping after his labours. Brer Rabbitt 
 then raised the hue and cry that some one had stolen 
 [130]
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE 
 
 the butter. Naturally, suspicion fell on Brer Pos- 
 sum, who was unjustly convicted of the crime. 
 
 The rules regarding the credibility of circumstan- 
 tial evidence in criminal cases are stated by Best as 
 follows : 
 
 1. — The onus of proving everything essential to the estab- 
 lishment of the charge against the accused lies on the prose- 
 cutor. 
 
 2. — The evidence must be such as to exclude to a moral cer- 
 tainty every reasonable doubt of the guilt of the accused. 
 
 3. — In matters of doubt it is safer to acquit than condemn; 
 for it is better that several guilty persons should escape than 
 that one innocent person should suffer. 
 
 4. — There must be clear and unequivocal proof of the corpus 
 delicti, or body, or basis, of the crime. 
 
 If a man is charged with murder, obviously the 
 first question is whether the person alleged to have 
 been done to death is actually dead. Before you set 
 out to prove that A murdered B you must prove 
 that B is dead. The danger of endeavouring to 
 prove facts of this sort exclusively by circumstantial 
 evidence is obvious. Sir Matthew Hale mentions 
 an instance where a man was missing for a consid- 
 erable time and there was strong ground for pre- 
 suming that another had murdered him and con- 
 sumed the body in an oven ; the supposed murderer 
 was convicted, and executed, after which the other 
 man returned from sea. 
 
 5. — The hypothesis of delinquency should be consistent with 
 all the facts proved. 
 
 [131]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 In passing from this subject I cannot do better 
 than quote the late Lord Coleridge's eloquent de- 
 scription of circumstantial evidence: "I think one 
 might describe it as a network of facts cast around 
 the accused man. That network may be a mere 
 gossamer thread, as light and as unsubstantial as 
 the air itself. It may vanish at a touch. It may 
 be that, strong as it is in part, it leaves great gaps 
 and rents through which the accused is entitled to 
 pass in safety. It may be so close, so stringent, so 
 coherent in its texture that no efforts on the part 
 of the accused can break through. It may come to 
 nothing — on the other hand, it may be absolutely 
 convincing. . . . The law does not demand that you 
 shall act upon certainties alone. ... In our lives, 
 in our acts, in our thoughts we do not deal with cer- 
 tainties; we ought to act upon just and reasonable 
 convictions founded upon just and reasonable 
 grounds." 
 
 [132]
 
 XI: FACTS AND INFERENCES
 
 XI 
 FACTS AND INFERENCES 
 
 Prove all things; hold fast that which is good. 
 — Epistle to the Thessalonians. 
 
 Of the different sorts of proof, what lawyers call 
 "real evidence" is the most satisfactory and con- 
 vincing. It is the evidence afforded by our senses. 
 With limitations, "See and judge for yourself" is 
 not a bad maxim. Such evidence must, however, 
 be regarded with caution. In my last chapter I 
 indicated the danger of describing inferences as 
 facts. It is also a common error to mistake infer- 
 ences for facts. 
 
 The Copernican controversy is a good and much- 
 quoted instance. The appearances of Nature led 
 people to assume that the earth was stationary and 
 that the sun went round it. This conclusion or in- 
 ference they treated as a fact. We now know that 
 their assumption was wrong. The things they saw 
 every day did not mean what they thought. 
 
 So it is in smaller things. All that glitters is not 
 gold. You, an unsophisticated male, may in your 
 innocence remark to your observant and better- 
 informed wife that Mrs. B. has a wonderful com- 
 
 [135]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 plexion. Your lady says, "I wonder how it would 
 look after a shower of rain?" You both saw the 
 same beautiful colouring, but you drew different 
 inferences. In stating that Mrs. 15. had a fine com- 
 plexion you stated as a fact what was in reality a 
 mistaken inference or impression from certain ob- 
 served facts — colour, texture, and so on. You mis- 
 took artificial for natural bloom. You may say — 
 why so many words to describe what we all call a 
 mistake? Why confuse the discussion by talking 
 about mistaking inferences for facts? The answer 
 is that if you wish to have a clear perception of 
 things you must acquire the habit of discriminating 
 between what you see and the conclusions you draw 
 from what vou see. 
 
 This is one of the chief merits of the legal method. 
 Lawyers are careful to ascertain what facts are 
 proved, and then what facts may be inferred or 
 presumed from the proved facts. 
 
 A frequent source of error is the habit of remem- 
 bering and emphasising facts which favour one side 
 of a question and overlooking, forgetting, or mini- 
 mising those which favour the other. This is due 
 in a great measure to faulty enumeration. For ex- 
 ample: the production of six different cures by a 
 quack doctor would no doubt secure him a great 
 reputation, but no details would be forthcoming of 
 the hundreds of cases in which he had failed. 
 
 Another fallacy is due to the assumption that 
 what holds good of each member of a certain class 
 [136]
 
 FACTS AND INFERENCES 
 
 holds good of the class collectively. To give a sim- 
 ple instance. A firm makes a profit by employing 
 four travellers. The partners therefore assume that 
 as each traveller is remunerative they can usefully 
 increase the number to twenty with a corresponding 
 increase of profit. But this may be erroneous. The 
 trade available may suffice for only four. On the 
 other hand, twenty travellers may produce a re- 
 munerative turnover, whereas four may show a loss. 
 The man who ruins himself by extravagance, if he 
 thinks at all, suffers from a like delusion. He justi- 
 fies each item of expense on the ground that he can 
 afford it, forgetting that the sum total will lead him 
 into the bankruptcy court. 
 
 It is a common trick to bring forward an irrele- 
 vant object to support a doubtful statement. For 
 instance, Shakespeare's Jack Cade claimed to be the 
 grandson of the Earl of March and therefore heir 
 to the Throne. He alleged that his father had been 
 stolen by a beggar, and, being ignorant of his par- 
 entage, had become a bricklayer . One of Cade's 
 supporters clinched the matter with the crowd by 
 telling them that the bricklayer had made a chimney 
 in his father's house and that the bricks were there 
 to testify it! 
 
 Another trick is to substitute a different proposi- 
 tion for the one of which proof is required; e.g., a 
 man is convicted of embezzlement, but many miti- 
 gating circumstances are brought forward which 
 cannot be denied. A bitter critic may say, "Well, 
 
 [137]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 but after all the man is a rogue and there. is an end 
 of it." Such an assertion regarding a point not in 
 dispute is irrelevant. The odium implied by the 
 use of the word "rogue" excites a disgust in the 
 minds of the listeners which destroys the force of 
 the mitigating circumstances, the real question un- 
 der discussion (Whately). 
 
 If a matter is important it is well to write down 
 the points of which proof is required and the parti- 
 culars of the evidence available to prove each point, 
 indicating which facts are proved and which in- 
 ferred. J 
 
 In conversation undue precision in language is 
 regarded as pedantic, but when dealing with sub- 
 jects of importance it is essential to understand ex- 
 actly what you imply by the words used. Definition 
 is the remedy for ambiguity. Most of us could not 
 define a number of the words we constantly use. 
 Roughly, we know their meaning, but we could not 
 at short notice write down precise definitions. 
 Make the experiment. Take words such as beauty, 
 civilisation, impossibility, certain, capital, rent, 
 wages, profits: write down your definitions, and 
 then check them with a good dictionary. You will 
 probably find the task not so easy as it apppears. 
 If you use terms of art or commerce which have tra- 
 ditional meanings, be careful that you understand 
 their technical implications. Should you fail to 
 observe this precaution the words used may be held 
 to mean what you did not intend. 
 [138]
 
 FACTS AND INFERENCES 
 
 In legal proceedings the Court usually insists 
 upon the production of physical objects forming 
 part of the evidence, instead of relying upon a de- 
 scription of such objects by witnesses. Non-pro- 
 duction when unexplained gives rise to a presump- 
 tion against the defaulting party. For instance, a 
 sweep's boy found a diamond which he took to a 
 jeweller, who declined to return it or to produce it 
 in Court. The judge told the jury to assume that 
 the diamond was of the finest class, thus giving 
 the rascally jeweller his deserts. In larceny cases, 
 if the stolen property has been found, its produc- 
 tion is usually required, and in murder cases the 
 lethal instrument, if available, must be produced. 
 In civil proceedings, the Court frequently inspects 
 samples of goods, pieces of machinery, etc. All 
 these are called "exhibits" — the lawyer's term for 
 documents or articles referred to by witnesses. As 
 unskilled persons are incapable of forming a reliable 
 opinion on a technical question, such as the quality 
 of a material, skilled witnesses are frequently called 
 to assist the Court with explanations. 
 
 The best evidence available by the party upon 
 whom lies the burden of proof must be produced. 
 This rule chiefly relates to documents. What is in 
 writing must be proved by the writing itself, and 
 the original must be produced unless ( 1 ) it has been 
 lost or destroyed; (2) production is physically im- 
 possible; or (3) the document is in possession of 
 the opposite party, who neglects to produce it after 
 
 [139]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 receiving notice to do so. The original or best evi- 
 dence is called primary evidence. All evidence 
 falling short of this is called secondary. When 
 secondary evidence is permissible it may consist 
 of a copy of the document, or verbal evidence 
 as to its contents. The necessity for the rule 
 that demands the best evidence is obvious. 
 Honest witnesses frequently make mistakes as 
 to the contents of written documents, and copies 
 are often inaccurate. Sometimes the inaccuracy 
 is due to negligence and sometimes to fraud. In 
 the ordinary business of life, if the occasion be 
 important it is essential to see original documents, 
 more especially in the case of references and orders 
 and contracts. It is a common trick for a person 
 seeking a situation to copy out and re-date an old 
 reference so as to bridge over an awkward inter- 
 vening period, and many frauds have taken place 
 owing to the substitution of higher or lower figures 
 in copies of orders or contracts for sale or purchase. 
 For example, A offers B certain property for, say, 
 £10,000, alleging that he (A) gave £8,000 for it. 
 In support of this statement he produces a copy of 
 a contract in which the consideration is stated at 
 £8,000, when in the original the price is much less. 
 Reliance on extracts from speeches, letters, and 
 other documents is proverbially dangerous. The 
 context often controls, explains, or modifies the 
 meaning. 
 
 The law makes certain presumptions. That is to 
 [140]
 
 FACTS AND INFERENCES 
 
 say, it assumes certain things to be true. Some of 
 these presumptions, called conclusive, cannot be 
 contradicted, while others, called rebuttable, may- 
 be rebutted or explained by evidence. For ex- 
 ample, it is conclusively presumed that every sane 
 person above the age of fourteen is acquainted with 
 the civil and criminal law; that every sane man of 
 the age of discretion contemplates the natural and 
 probable consequences of his acts; that when hus- 
 band and wife have cohabited together during the 
 period appropriate to conception, and no impo- 
 tency is proved, the issue are legitimate although the 
 wife may have been guilty of acts of adultery at the 
 time in question; that after a certain age (probably 
 fifty-three) women are incapable of child-bearing; 
 and that a child under seven cannot commit an in- 
 dictable offence. There are many other conclusive 
 presumptions mainly relating to the proof of ju- 
 dicial or official acts, such as the registration of 
 joint-stock companies, bankruptcies, etc., which are 
 conclusively proved by the production of prescribed 
 official documents. 
 
 Conclusive presumptions avoid waste of time and 
 simplify judicial proceedings. For instance, if it 
 be necessary to prove the registration of a joint- 
 stock company, there is obviously no occasion to do 
 more than produce the registrar's certificate show- 
 ing that the company has been duly registered. The 
 Court assumes that the registrar has satisfied him- 
 self that all preliminaries to registration have been 
 
 [141]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 properly performed. The presumption that every 
 one is assumed to know the law may. however, oc- 
 casion surprise, as.it is notorious that even judges 
 frequently experience difficulty, after laborious in- 
 vestigation, in ascertaining the law upon a parti- 
 cular point. The answer to this criticism is that the 
 presumption in question is the basis of all systems 
 of jurisprudence. There can be only one standard 
 for the whole population — viz., the law, whatever 
 it may be. That is certain which is capable of being 
 made certain. Doubtful points are settled by the 
 Courts. If a man's obligations depended upon the 
 state of his acquaintance with the law, ignorance 
 would be at a premium and dishonest persons would 
 escape by lying as to the extent of their information. 
 Rebuttable presumptions, as their name implies, 
 are those which may be shown to be false in the par- 
 ticular case. For instance, innocence is presumed 
 until guilt is proved by clear and sufficient evidence. 
 If there is a doubt the prisoner is entitled to the 
 benefit of it. Also a man is presumed to be sane 
 until evidence to the contrary is produced. The 
 onus of proving insanity is on the party by whom 
 it is alleged. Thus, if a will is impugned on the 
 ground of the testator's mental incapacity the bur- 
 den of proof rests with the party contesting the will. 
 It will be noticed that both conclusive and rebut- 
 table presumptions are nothing more than judicial 
 rules that certain assumptions shall be made in the 
 one case absolutely and in the other subject to con- 
 [142]
 
 FACTS AND INFERENCES 
 
 tradiction by sufficient evidence. The same effect 
 might have been produced had they been embodied 
 in Acts of Parliament; indeed, the whole of our 
 statute law is in the nature of presumptions which 
 must be enforced by the Courts. Conclusive and 
 rebuttable presumptions of law must not be con- 
 founded with presumptions of fact, which, as al- 
 ready shown, arise in cases depending upon circum- 
 stantial evidence. A presumption of fact is noth- 
 ing more than an inference drawn from any fact 
 or facts. If facts, A, B, and C are proved, the 
 Court may infer fact D. The celebrated judgment 
 of King Solomon was founded on two presump- 
 tions : ( 1 ) That maternal affection would prevent 
 a mother from allowing her child to be divided in 
 two, and (2) that the woman who was willing to 
 save the child was the mother. 
 
 Amongst conclusive presumptions are included 
 what lawyers term estoppels. When a person by 
 his words or conduct represents to another that a 
 certain state of things exists, and thus induces him 
 to alter his position, the person making the repre- 
 sentation will be precluded or estopped from deny- 
 ing the truth of the facts represented. Thus if A 
 represents to B that C is A's agent and B acts on 
 that representation, A will be precluded from deny- 
 ing the agency. 
 
 Those who desire to study more closely the sub- 
 jects dealt with in these articles might read with 
 advantage the chapters in Mills "Logic" dealing 
 
 [143]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 with fallacies. Also the same sections in Dc Mor- 
 gan's "Logic" and Whately's "Logic." Another 
 
 useful hook is "Principles of Science" by Jevons, 
 although parts of it arc highly technical. 
 
 There are many hooks on legal evidence. The 
 larger ones are Best and Pitt-Taylor. A smaller 
 book is Phipson's "Manual of the Law of Evi- 
 dence." Wills on Circumstantial Evidence deals 
 more particularly with that branch of the subject. 
 
 A great part of the legal works quoted consists 
 of technical matter dealing with questions of prac- 
 tice of interest only to lawyers ; therefore the lay- 
 reader will do well to pick out the chapters which 
 deal with principles. The first 108 pages of "Best" 
 will suffice for most people. Although not strictly 
 relevant to the rules of evidence a perusal of por- 
 tions of Pollock or Anson on "Contracts" and Pol- 
 lock on torts or wrongs will be found a useful guide 
 to precise thinking. 
 
 [144]
 
 XII: HEARSAY AND WHAT IS 
 RELEVANT
 
 XII 
 HEARSAY AND WHAT IS RELEVANT 
 
 "I believe you are in the service of Mr. Pickwick, 
 the defendant in this case. Speak up, if you please, 
 Mr. Weller." 
 
 "I mean to speak up, sir," replied Sam. "I am in 
 the service o' that 'ere gen'l'man, an* a wery good 
 service it is." 
 
 "Little to do and plenty to get, I suppose?" said 
 Sergeant Buzfuz, with jocularity. 
 
 "Oh, quite enough to get, sir, as the soldier said 
 ven they ordered him three hundred and fifty lashes," 
 replied Sam. 
 
 "You must not tell us •what the soldier, or any other 
 man, said, sir," interposed the judge; "it's not evi- 
 dence." 
 
 "Wery good, my lord," replied Sam. 
 
 "Bardell v. Pickwick." 
 
 I now turn to hearsay evidence and necessity of 
 keeping to the point according to the law of Eng- 
 land. It must be remembered that Scottish differs 
 from English law in many respects. 
 
 Mr. Justice Starleigh's ruling (in "Bardell v. 
 Pickwick") was correct. Generally speaking, hear- 
 say, or second-hand evidence, is not received in the 
 Law Courts. Witnesses must speak to what they 
 know of their own knowledge. Otherwise the 
 Court would be required to act on the evidence of 
 
 [147]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 witnesses not under oath and not subject to cross- 
 examination. Other reasons are that the admission 
 of hearsay would open the door to fraud and spin 
 out trials to an unconscionable length. 
 
 Let us take a typical case. A is charged with 
 murdering his wife by putting poison in her tea. B, 
 one of the witnesses, says C told him, a month after 
 the alleged murder, that he had seen A pour poison 
 out of a bottle into the teapot. That would not be 
 evidence against A, and in a well-conducted trial 
 B would not be allowed to make such a statement. 
 The rule extends to written as well as to verbal 
 statements. A letter from C to B stating that he, 
 C, had seen the prisoner dope the teapot would not 
 be evidence any more than C's verbal statement. 
 "Hearsay conduct" also is inadmissible. The opin- 
 ion of a person not called as a witness cannot be 
 proved by describing what he did. For example, 
 the question in one case was whether a ship was sea- 
 worthy. A deceased captain, after examining the 
 ship had embarked in her with his family. The 
 Court held that this was not evidence of seaworthi- 
 ness. This extension of the rule is open to serious 
 criticism. There is a marked difference between 
 proof of conduct and second-hand statements. The 
 latter are open to all sorts of doubts, but the former 
 are definite facts from which the Court can draw 
 its own inferences. 
 
 There are, however, many exceptions to the rule: 
 (1) Statements forming part of what lawyers 
 [148]
 
 HEARSAY AND WHAT IS RELEVANT 
 
 call the res gestce are admissible. The res gestae 
 may be defined as the transaction, the subject of the 
 inquiry, and the facts and circumstances intimately 
 connected with ft. But such statements are only 
 admitted as evidence that they were made, not as 
 proving the truth of what was stated. For instance, 
 A stabs B in the presence of C and D. C, giving 
 evidence, relates the story and says that after the 
 fatal blow D, now dead, said to A, "Good God! you 
 have killed him." 
 
 The statement could be given in evidence as part 
 of the transaction, but not as proof of the fact that 
 A killed B, although no doubt the effect of admit- 
 ting it would be to influence the jury in the direction 
 of believing that he did. 
 
 In cross-examination, where a greater latitude is 
 allowed than when examining-in-chief, questions 
 may be put which elicit hearsay evidence, but such 
 statements are inadmissible as proof of the facts 
 to which they refer, and it is the practice of the 
 judges to warn juries accordingly. 
 
 (2) Declarations by deceased persons against 
 their own interests are admitted. For example, if 
 A enters in his diary a note that he owes B one 
 hundred pounds, and dies later on, the entry would 
 be evidence against A's executors if B sued for the 
 hundred pounds. 
 
 The reason for this rule is that people are not in 
 the habit of making statements contrary to their 
 own interests unless those statements are true, 
 
 [149]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 whereas, on the other hand, they often make untrue 
 statements in their own favour. 
 
 (3) Declarations by deceased persons in the 
 course of their employment arc also admissible. 
 For instance it' B's Ledger clerk makes an entry 
 showing that A owes B one hundred pounds, the 
 entry would he admissible in favour of B if the 
 clerk were dead when the action was tried. 
 
 (4) Declarations by deceased persons regarding 
 puhlic rights such as right of way, etc. 
 
 (5) Declarations by deceased persons regarding 
 question of pedigree. For instance, entries in fam- 
 ily Bibles as to marriages, births, etc., and declara- 
 tions by deceased persons as to their own marriage 
 or that of their relatives. 
 
 (G) Ancient documents are admitted as evidence 
 of ancient possession of property provided they 
 were executed contemporaneously with the transac- 
 tions to which they relate. 
 
 (7) Declarations made by persons under the 
 belief of their impending death. 
 
 (8) Declarations by a deceased person as to his 
 state of health at a particular time. 
 
 Both in civil and criminal cases the evidence must 
 be relevant to the issues raised in the pleadings. 
 The parties are not, or should not be, allowed to 
 roam. This is a primary outstanding rule of the 
 English law of evidence, and it is one which you 
 may well bear in mind when dealing with ordinary 
 investigations. Keep to the point. Consider mat- 
 [150]
 
 HEARSAY AND WHAT IS RELEVANT 
 
 ters only directly affecting the issue in question. 
 No doubt it is often difficult to discover where roam- 
 ing begins. This is shown by the inordinate length 
 of many trials in the Law Courts. At the same 
 time, lawyers have good rules. Whether they are 
 always observed is another matter. The leading 
 maxims are : "In jure non remota causa sed prox- 
 ima spectatur" — "In law the proximate and not the 
 remote cause is to be regarded" — and "Res inter 
 alios acta alteri nocere non debet" — "One person 
 ought not to be injured by the acts of others to 
 which acts he is a stranger." Evidence must have 
 a reasonable connection with the main fact to be 
 determined. The parties must not drag in remote 
 subsidiary facts and circumstances. 
 
 Generally speaking, a prisoner's evil record can- 
 not be brought up against him. If, however, he 
 avails himself of his option to give evidence, he may 
 be cross-examined as to character if he or his advo- 
 cate has questioned the witnesses for the prosecution 
 with a view to establishing his own good character, 
 or has given evidence thereof, or the defence is such 
 as to involve imputations upon the prosecutor or the 
 witnesses for the prosecution. 
 
 There are also certain cases in which evidence of 
 previous charges may be given. Let us take two 
 different examples. (1) A is charged with bur- 
 glary and murder. Ten years before he had been 
 convicted of robbery with violence, and seven years 
 earlier of burglary. These facts cannot be given 
 
 [151]
 
 SOMK THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 in evidence against him unless he goes Into the wit- 
 ness-box under the circumstances above mentioned. 
 (2) A baby fanner is charged with murdering an 
 infant by neglect and starvation. The fact that five 
 other children committed to her care had died under 
 suspicious circumstances during the preceding two 
 years can be given in evidence. In case No. 1 there 
 is no connection between the different crimes, 
 whereas in case No. 2 the deaths of the six children 
 all form part of the same story. 
 
 Civilisation depends upon character, credit, and 
 reputation. You judge people by their record. As 
 the Bible says, "By their fruits ye shall know them." 
 This is another application of the theory of prob- 
 ability. At the same time, we may carry this prin- 
 ciple too far, and it is one of the merits of our 
 admirable legal system that a man cannot be com- 
 mitted upon evidence of bad character. The parti- 
 cular charge against him must be proved. On the 
 other hand, while a good reputation is a valuable 
 asset, particularly in time of stress and danger, the 
 law recognises, and experience shows, that crimes 
 are often committed by unlikely persons, and that 
 every one must be judged on the facts of the par- 
 ticular case. 
 
 [152]
 
 XIII: HOW TO FIND THINGS OUT
 
 XIII 
 HOW TO FIND THINGS OUT 
 
 Nothing has such power to broaden the mind as the 
 ability to investigate systematically and truly all 
 that comes under thy observation in life. 
 
 — Marcus Aurelius 
 
 No statement of the principles of evidence would 
 be complete without a brief account of what scien- 
 tists and logicians term the inductive method. This 
 sounds rather learned and portentous, but it is 
 merely the scientific name for a simple mental proc- 
 ess which even ignorant persons constantly perform, 
 and which is a necessary incident of life. The ques- 
 tion is how you perform it. 
 
 Every one reasons inductively — some con- 
 sciously; some unconsciously; some in regard to 
 big and others in regard to small things. The scien- 
 tist applies the ordered and well-established prin- 
 ciples of induction, whereas the child in his small 
 way arrives at his conclusions by simpler methods. 
 Briefly stated, induction consists in ascertaining 
 general laws from particular instances. "In other 
 words, induction is a process by which we conclude 
 that what is true of certain individuals of a class is 
 true of the whole class, or that what is true at certain 
 
 [155]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 times will be true in similar eircumstances at all 
 times" (Mill). 
 
 Let us see how the child proceeds. Finding the 
 blaze of the fire attractive, he reaches out toward the 
 pleasing object, and, of course, burns his fingers. 
 One experiment is usually enough. He comes to 
 the conclusion that all fires burn the fingers of small 
 boys. From an experiment with one fire he estab- 
 lishes a general law regarding all fires. As Lord 
 Macaulay says in his Essay on Lord Bacon, which 
 I advise you to read: "It [the inductive method] 
 is constantly practised by the most ignorant clown, 
 by the most thoughtless schoolboy, by the very child 
 at the breast. That method leads the clown to the 
 conclusion that if he sows barley he shall not reap 
 wheat. By that method the schoolboy learns that 
 a cloudy day is the best for catching trout. The 
 very infant, we imagine, is led by induction to ex- 
 pect milk from his mother or nurse, and none from 
 his father." 
 
 The scientist proceeds on very much the same 
 lines. He is faced with a phenomenon or occurrence 
 which he does not understand. He sets to work to 
 investigate it by observation and experiment. He 
 may thus haphazard discover the cause, but the more 
 usual course of scientific inquiry is for the investi- 
 gator, from experience and by inference, to form a 
 theory or hypothesis — a provisional explanation — 
 which he endeavours to verify by examining all the 
 evidence available. Of course, many theories prove 
 [156]
 
 HOW TO FIND THINGS OUT 
 
 to be wrong. The celebrated Turgot remarked: 
 "The first thing is to invent a theory; the second 
 thing is to destroy it." Or, shall we say, riddle it 
 with ruthless criticism based not on one's own un- 
 aided reflection, but upon an examination of the 
 facts. It may be found in the progress of the in- 
 quiry that the theory with which the investigator 
 starts is wrong, and he may have to form another 
 which, in its turn, may prove to be fallacious. Per- 
 haps he may eventually propound a theory which 
 can be supported by the observed facts. 
 
 It should be noted, however, that there is this 
 difference between the inductions of the child, or 
 ignorant person, and those of the scientific investi- 
 gator. The former knows only that things happen, 
 while the latter knows why they happen. For in- 
 stance, the quack knows by experience jthat a cer- 
 tain drug acts as a tonic, but he does not know the 
 reason, whereas the skilled doctor does. That is 
 why rule-of-thumb knowledge is called empirical as 
 compared with scientific. 
 
 As an instance of scientific induction I will 
 shortly describe one of the most amazing detective 
 stories of modern times, the tracing and conviction 
 of the mosquito as the carrier of malaria and yellow 
 fever. From the time of Hippocrates malaria had 
 been carefully studied and ascribed to all sorts of 
 causes — miasma from undrained swamps, contagion 
 by contact with persons suffering from the disease, 
 infection from the air, etc., etc. In 1880 Laveran, 
 
 [157]
 
 si 
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 a French army surgeon, discovered that malaria 
 was caused by a minute parasite in the blood, hot 
 how it got there remained a mystery. In an indefi- 
 nite way the mosquito had Long hern associated with 
 malaria, but it was not until i<s ( .)t that Sir Patrick 
 Manson, arguing by analogy from his previous dis- 
 coveries regarding other t topical diseases, put for- 
 ward the theory that the disease was transmitted by 
 the mosquito from one person to another. In 1895 
 this idea was followed up by Sir Ronald Ross, who 
 found that the body cavity of the mosquito of the 
 genus Anopheles contained enormous quantities of 
 malarial parasites, which it injected through its 
 grooved sting. The investigation was continued 
 from a different angle, and in 1898 it was shown 
 that if a mosquito of the Anopheles variety bites 
 a person suffering from malaria and then bites a 
 healthy person, the latter will develop the disease, 
 provided that a sufficient interval has elapsed to 
 allow the parasites to breed in the mosquito. In 
 1900 Dr. Sambon and Dr. Low, acting for the Lon- 
 don School of Tropical Medicine, went to reside in 
 the most malarious district in Italy during the most 
 dangerous season. Living, between sunrise and 
 sunset, in a mosquito-proof hut (the female mos- 
 quito, who is the culprit, bites only at night as a 
 rule), they did not contract the disease, whereas 
 the mosquitoes which they caught and sent to Lon- 
 don produced malaria in persons who submitted 
 themselves to be bitten at the School of Medicine. 
 [158]
 
 HOW TO FIND THINGS OUT 
 
 These experiments were successfully carried out on 
 a larger scale, and additional proof was furnished 
 by segregating all malaria patients in certain dis- 
 tricts, so as to cut off the mosquitoes' source of 
 supply. Another method adopted was to drain the 
 swamps frequented by mosquitoes. The result of 
 these discoveries has been in a great measure to 
 stamp out the disease. 
 
 It was first suggested in 1847 that the mosquito 
 was responsible for transmitting yellow fever. In 
 1881 Dr. Finlay, of Havana, made experiments to 
 test the truth of the theory, but they were not suc- 
 cessful, because he used for inoculation mosquitoes 
 that had bitten yellow fever patients only from two 
 to five days earlier, whereas later experiments 
 proved that the mosquito is harmless until twelve 
 days or longer after the biting. During the occu- 
 pation of Cuba by the United States army in 1900 
 yellow fever became very prevalent, the mosquito 
 theory was further investigated, and Drs. Lazear 
 and Caroll allowed themselves to be bitten by mos- 
 quitoes which had become infected by biting yellow- 
 fever patients. Dr. Lazear died as a result. Dr. 
 Caroll was attacked, but recovered. After Lazear's 
 death nine volunteers offered themselves for experi- 
 ment, and with the utmost fearlessness, clad only in 
 their night-shirts, quietly lay down in a room con- 
 taining infected mosquitoes and submitted to their 
 attacks — a wonderful exhibition of courage. 
 Nearly all of them were smitten with the disease. 
 
 [159]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 Tests were also made to prove whether yellow fever 
 was a contagious disease. Seven volunteers entered 
 a room carefully guarded against the entrance of 
 mosquitoes. It was supplied with a large quantity 
 of bed clothing, wearing apparel, and night clothing 
 taken from the beds and persons of patients who 
 had died of yellow fever. For twenty consecutive 
 nights the volunteers handled, wore, and slept in the 
 contaminated clothing, although the stench was so 
 offensive as to be almost unbearable. They emerged 
 from the ordeal in perfect health, proving, beyond 
 possibility of dispute, that the disease was not con- 
 tagious. The result of these experiments was to 
 show that the mosquito (Stegomifia variety) is re- 
 sponsible for the transmission of yellow fever. 
 
 Now let us examine the method applied in mak- 
 ing these wonderful discoveries. First we find that 
 experience suggested the mosquito as a possible 
 source of infection. Here we have the theory or 
 hypothesis. Second, in the case of malaria, we have 
 the investigation showing that the body of the insect 
 contains the parasite. Third we have the verifica- 
 tion of the theory by these facts : 
 
 (a) That persons bitten by mosquitoes develop 
 the disease, whereas persons who are not bitten 
 escape ; 
 
 (b) That if the mosquito is prevented from 
 reaching infected persons its sting is rendered harm- 
 less ; 
 
 [160]
 
 HOW TO FIND THINGS OUT 
 
 \c) That the destruction of the mosquito abol- 
 ishes the disease. 
 
 The result of investigations regarding particular 
 instances is to establish the general law that malaria 
 and yellow fever are transmitted by the mosquito. 
 Numerous other instances could be given. Almost 
 all scientific discoveries have proceeded on these 
 lines: experience and knowledge leading to an 
 hypothesis, followed by verification. 
 
 [161]
 
 XIV: THE LAWS OF THOUGHT
 
 XIV 
 THE LAWS OF THOUGHT 
 
 Mind is the beginning of knowledge. 
 
 — Aristotle. 
 
 The method described in my last chapter seems 
 simple and commonplace. It is difficult to realise 
 that for centuries the inductive method was neg- 
 lected by the learned ones of the earth. They were 
 so much engrossed in logical disputation that they 
 thought more about arguments than facts. In 
 everyday life people adopted more rational meth- 
 ods, but many popular superstitions and fallacies 
 were and are due to the neglect of investigation and 
 experiment. Two great Englishmen took a leading 
 part in demonstrating the necessity for true reason- 
 ing — Roger Bacon (thirteenth century) and Lord 
 Bacon (early seventeenth century). Both taught 
 that knowledge is based on experience and experi- 
 ment. They said : "If you want to know what is 
 on the other side of a wall, go and look. Don't 
 speculate about it." 
 
 As Lord Macaulay says in one of his essays: "By 
 stimulating men to the discovery of new truth, Lord 
 Bacon stimulated them to employ the inductive 
 
 [165]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTKK 
 
 method, the only method, even the ancient philos- 
 ophers and the schoolmen themselves being judges, 
 
 by which new truth can be discovered. By stimulat- 
 ing men to the discovery of useful truth, he fur- 
 nished them with a motive to perform the inductive 
 process well and carefully. His predecessors had 
 been, in his phrase, not interpreters, but anticipators 
 of nature. They had been content with the first 
 principles at which they had arrived by the most 
 scanty and slovenly induction. And why was this? 
 It was, we conceive, because their philosophy pro- 
 posed to itself no practical end, because it was 
 merely an exercise of the mind. A man who wants 
 to contrive a new machine or a new medicine has a 
 strong motive to observe accurately and patiently, 
 and to try experiment after experiment. But a 
 man who merely wants a theme for disputation or 
 declamation has no such motive. He is therefore 
 content with premises grounded on assumption, or 
 on the most scanty and hasty induction. Thus, we 
 conceive, the schoolmen acted. On their foolish 
 premises they often argued with great ability; and 
 as their object was assensum s-ubjugare, non res, to 
 be victorious in controversy, not to be victorious 
 over nature, they were consistent. For just as 
 much logical skill could be shown in reasoning on 
 false as on true premises. But the followers of the 
 new philosophy, proposing to themselves the dis- 
 covery of useful truth as their object, must have 
 altogether failed of attaining that object if they had 
 [166]
 
 THE LAWS OF THOUGHT 
 
 been content to build theories on superficial induc- 
 tion." 
 
 It must, however, be remembered that Bacon 
 did not discover the inductive method, as many peo- 
 ple think. He only pointed out in an arresting way 
 the urgent need for its use. Again, to quote Lord 
 Macaulay: "Aristotle had long before pointed out 
 the absurdity of supposing that syllogistic reason- 
 ing could ever conduct men to the discovery of any 
 new principle, had shown that such discoveries must 
 be made by induction, and by induction alone, and 
 had given the history of the inductive process, con- 
 cisely indeed, but with great perspicuity and pre- 
 
 cision." 
 
 When, however, you come to examine more mi- 
 nutely the process of the inductive method, you will 
 find that there is much food for thought. First, 
 it is difficult to appreciate that reasoning depends 
 upon the detection of similarities and differences. 
 When you hear a bell ringing in the street on a Sun- 
 day afternoon, you detect the muffin-man, because 
 the sound is similar to that which you heard on 
 previous occasions when you saw the said muffin- 
 man ring his bell. If you meet your brother you 
 recognise him because you see the same form that 
 you have always known as your brother. 
 
 So it is with all reasoning. Consciously or uncon- 
 sciously, we are for ever making comparisons. The 
 trained mind perceives similarities and differences 
 which are not observed by the untrained. This ap- 
 
 [167]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 plies both to physical objects and to ideas. The 
 expert recognises that certain cloth complies with B 
 certain standard because his trained eve detects dif- 
 ferences imperceptible to the untrained eye when 
 comparing it with a cloth of slightly inferior quality. 
 
 Then, we do not always remember with sufficient 
 vividness that things — both mental and physical — 
 which are equal to the same thing are equal to one 
 another. In short, if A is equal to B, and B to C, 
 A must be equal also to C. 
 
 Also, we are apt to forget that, for the purposes 
 of strict reasoning and apprehension, a thing must 
 either be or not be, which means that nothing can 
 have, at the same time and in the same place, con- 
 tradictory and inconsistent qualities. As Aristotle 
 said, there can be no mean between opposite asser- 
 tions, we must either affirm or deny. For example, 
 a door cannot be shut and open at the same time ; a 
 line must be either straight or not straight ; an action 
 must be either virtuous or not virtuous. In the 
 affairs of common life, however, we are seldom con- 
 cerned to place an object or an idea in a rigid cate- 
 gory. Our attention is usually addressed to ascer- 
 taining and describing the facts, not by reference to 
 categories, but as they are. We say, for instance, 
 the door was nearly shut; the line was not quite 
 straight ; the action was not quite fair, etc. At the 
 same time, it is well to have this rule in mind, as 
 precision is the basis of all reasoning. When argu- 
 [168]
 
 THE LAWS OF THOUGHT 
 
 ing about less obvious matters people frequently put 
 forward contradictory propositions. 
 
 The comparison of ideas or things of the mind is 
 often a matter of extreme difficulty. Let us take a 
 common example. You say every citizen has the 
 right to exercise such a measure of freedom as can 
 be exercised without interfering with the enjoyment 
 of a similar measure of freedom by other citizens. 
 This definition of liberty seems clear until you seek 
 to apply it to particular instances. We will deal 
 with two suppositions. (1) Smith, Jones, Brown 
 and Robinson, the local bakers, being earnest, enter- 
 prising business men, form a ring to raise the price 
 of bread. The whole town is in an uproar. The 
 bakers are described as rascally profiteers and pro- 
 posals are made to control the bread trade. On the 
 other hand, the bakers say that they are public bene- 
 factors who have long worked for inadequate 
 profits, that their prices are reasonable, and that if 
 the public are dissatisfied they can bake their own 
 bread. (2) The sewermen employed by the Local 
 Authority strike for higher wages. Here again the 
 townspeople are furious. 
 
 The strikers are hotly charged with holding up 
 the community; the public suddenly discover that 
 flushing sewers is a most salubrious occupation, and 
 that, comparatively speaking, the sewer-men are 
 extremely well paid. On the other hand, the strik- 
 ers say that they are underpaid and over-worked, 
 that their occupation is dangerous and unpleasant, 
 
 [169]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 and that they arc under do obligation to work un- 
 less they think fit. Now, when yon come to apply 
 your definition to these two cases, you will find 
 several different opinions as to its application. Mr. 
 A. will say that both bakers and sewer-men are 
 within their rights, it being open to all other mem- 
 bers of the community to act in the same way. Mr. 
 15. will say that both parties are in the wrong; that 
 the bakers should be compelled to sell their bread 
 at a reasonable price and that the sewer-men should 
 be sent back to the sewers, if necessary, at the point 
 of the bayonet. Mr. C. will say that the bakers are 
 justified in charging what they like, but that the 
 case of the sewer-men is different. Mr. D. will back 
 the sewer-men and down the bakers. The bakers 
 themselves will very likely condemn the sewer-men 
 and the sewer-men the bakers. Mr. E., who is 
 probably right, will decline to argue until you define 
 what you mean by freedom. Define your terms and 
 then see whether the particular instance is covered 
 by the general rule. 
 
 John Stuart Mill gave five rules for inductive 
 reasoning, which state in precise but somewhat in- 
 volved terms the ordinary methods adopted by per- 
 sons who reason well when investigating a phenome- 
 non or occurrence which they do not understand. 
 These rules apply not only to scientific investigation 
 but to the common problems of life. 
 
 To take the first rule, called "The Method of 
 Agreement": "If two or more instances of the 
 [170]
 
 THE LAWS OF THOUGHT 
 
 phenomenon under investigation have only one cir- 
 cumstance in common, the circumstance in which 
 alone all the instances agree is the cause (or effect) 
 of the given phenomenon." In simpler language 
 this means that when you find that several different 
 things or sets of circumstances exhibit the same co- 
 nundrum you should inquire in what respects these 
 things or sets of circumstances agree or differ, be- 
 cause it is obvious that if they agree in only one 
 particular, that is likely to be the cause of the conun- 
 drum. 
 
 Jevons gives the following example: "Bright 
 prismatic colours are seen on bubbles, on films of tar 
 floating upon water, on thin plates of mica, as also 
 on cracks in glass or between two pieces of glass 
 pressed together. On examining all such cases they 
 seem to agree in nothing but the presence of a very 
 thin layer or plate, and it appears to make no ap- 
 preciable difference of what kind of matter, solid, 
 liquid or gaseous, the plate is made. Hence we 
 conclude that such colours are caused merely by the 
 thinness of the plates, and this conclusion is proved 
 true by the theory of the interference of light." 
 
 The second rule, called "The Method of Differ- 
 ence," is as follows : 
 
 "If an instance in which the phenomenon under 
 investigation occurs, and an instance in which it 
 does not occur, have every circumstance in common 
 save one, that one occurring only in the former, the 
 circumstance in which alone the two instances differ 
 
 [171]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 is the effect or the cause, or an indispensable part 
 of the cause, of the phenomenon." 
 
 This means, in other words, that if you see two 
 things or sets of circumstances exactly the same ex- 
 cept in one particular, and if the conundrum is dis- 
 played by the thing or set of circumstances that pos- 
 sesses this characteristic, you may assume that it is 
 this difference that causes the conundrum. 
 
 Jevons as an example gives the formation of dew: 
 "If on a clear, calm night a sheet or other covering 
 be stretched a foot or two above the earth, so as to 
 screen the ground below from the open sky, dew will 
 be found on the grass around the screen, but not 
 beneath it. As the temperature and moistness of 
 the air, and other circumstances are exactly the 
 same, the open sky must be an indispensable ante- 
 cedent to dew." 
 
 By the way, compare Gideon's experiences 
 (Judges vi. 37 et seq.). 
 
 The third rule, called "The Joint Method of 
 Agreement and Difference," is a combination of 
 Nos. 1 and 2, chiefly for use in scientific investiga- 
 tion. 
 
 The fourth rule, called "The Method of Resi- 
 dues," is comparatively simple. It states in effect 
 that if you are satisfied that part of a phenomenon 
 is due to certain causes, you may rest assured that 
 the remaining part is due to the other causes which 
 you have traced. 
 
 The fifth rule says that when phenomena vary in 
 [172]
 
 THE LAWS OF THOUGHT 
 
 unison you may assume that they react upon each 
 other, or are due to the same cause. For example, 
 friction causes heat — less friction, less heat — more 
 friction, more heat. The phenomenon "heat" varies 
 in proportion with the phenomenon "friction." Or, 
 to take another example, strike a bell in a complete 
 vacuum — no sound. Strike it in very little air in 
 the receiver of an air-pump and a faint sound is 
 heard, which increases or diminishes every time we 
 increase or diminish the density of the air. In this 
 case the phenomena are "sound" and "air" — more 
 air, more sound — less air, less sound. 
 
 If you wish to pursue this subject, I advise you 
 to read the sections on induction in Jevons' "Les- 
 sons in Logic," Mill's "Logic," Vol. I, and in 
 Whateley's "Logic." There are numbers of other 
 books. Bradley, Bosanquet, etc. Joseph's "Logic" 
 is one of the best. You will find that logicians, like 
 other experts, frequently differ. 
 
 You must not confuse inductive reasoning with 
 formal logic, the syllogism, etc. The syllogism is a 
 formula invented by logicians and dating back to 
 period before Aristotle. "It may be defined as an 
 act of thought by which, from two given proposi- 
 tions, we proceed to a third proposition, the truth 
 of which necessarily follows from the truth of these 
 given propositions" (Jevons). To take a rough 
 example : All men are liars. Jones is a man, there- 
 fore Jones is a liar. This, on the face of it, is un- 
 answerable ; but a moment's reflection will show that 
 
 [173]
 
 / 
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 it may be humbug, because the inference that 
 Jones is a liar depends on the implied assumption, 
 
 which may be true or untrue, that nil men are liars. 
 In short, formal logic does not teach how to observe 
 facts, but only how to argue from facts, which, 
 though agreed upon for the purposes of the argu- 
 ment, may in themselves be inaccurate. Forma) 
 logic tends to produce an acute mind, but life's prob- 
 lems are not settled by splitting hairs. A man may 
 be so sharp that he cuts himself. JVIacaulay went so 
 far as to say: "The knowledge of the theory of 
 logic has no tendency whatever to make men good 
 reasoners." 
 
 We live in a world of realities. Therefore it is 
 best to reason about actual, vital facts, interesting 
 in themselves whether they be the facts of everyday 
 life, facts in the Law Courts, or scientific facts. 
 Take an actual problem and try to solve it, remem- 
 bering as you work the rules for reasoning which are 
 the natural product of human experience. Some 
 minds run in one direction and some in another. 
 For amusement and instruction try to reason about 
 problems that interest you. That is the way to get 
 at the heart of a subject. The merry, eager, inquir- 
 ing mind goes all the way. The dull, bored mind 
 soon gets tired. There is a wonderful pleasure in 
 mental achievement for its own sake and not for 
 pecuniary profit. When you acquire information 
 which gives you keen satisfaction, you can say with 
 Shakespeare: 
 [174]
 
 THE LAWS OF THOUGHT 
 
 My crown is in my heart, not on my head, 
 Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, 
 Nor to be seen: my crown is called content, 
 A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. 
 
 [175]
 
 XV: LEGAL MAXIMS
 
 XV 
 
 LEGAL MAXIMS 
 
 Maxims are the condensed good sense of nations. 
 
 — Mackintosh. 
 
 This chapter is devoted to the legal maxims which 
 apply specially to the rules of evidence. Legal like 
 other maxims are framed with the object of stating 
 general principles in epigrammatic form. But it is 
 one thing to lay down general principles and an- 
 other to apply them to particular cases. Conse- 
 quently the application of legal maxims is by no 
 means easy. The problems usually arise, "Does 
 the maxim apply?" and "If it does, is the case under 
 review an exception?" The difficulty is increased 
 by the complexity of modern life and the accumula- 
 tion of a vast mass of statutes and legal decisions. 
 A knowledge of fundamental principles is, however, 
 * essential. They are the lawyer's compass. The ex- 
 igencies of the particular case may require him to 
 take this or that course, but unless he understands 
 first principles, he will be certain to make mistakes. 
 Many of the maxims date from the time of the 
 Romans. Being manifestly founded on reason, 
 public convenience and necessity, they form part of 
 the law of every civilised nation. 
 
 [179]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 Volenti non fit injuria. 
 
 That to which a man consents cannot be considered an injury. 
 
 Note. — This is an important and far-reaching 
 maxim, but it has its limitations. In some cases a 
 party has no power to consent — in other words con- 
 sent makes no difference. Yet generally speaking 
 acquiescence and consent form a good defence. For 
 example: If a man voluntarily releases his rights 
 he cannot afterwards enforce them, but he must not 
 be deceived into making the release, and in most 
 cases some consideration or a deed is necessary for 
 the effectual giving up of a right. There is another 
 class of case, however, in which consent and acquies- 
 cence are important factors. A man who contri- 
 butes to an injury which he sustains is precluded 
 from recovering damages from the other party to 
 the injury. This is what is called "contributory 
 negligence." 
 
 Qui fncit per alium facit per se. 
 
 He who does anything by another does it by himself. 
 
 Note. — When four hundred years ago the Pope's 
 cat allowed the Pope's monkey to use her paw to 
 pull chestnuts out of the fire, she little thought that 
 her action would be immortalised in two valuable 
 similes. "Pulling chestnuts out of the fire" for some 
 one else and "acting as a cat's-paw" are phrases we 
 all use and understand. But the law does not allow 
 the schemer to escape. If you employ an agent you 
 [180]
 
 LEGAL MAXIMS 
 
 are liable for what he does within the scope of his 
 authority, and to indemnify him for the conse- 
 quence, unless indeed the parties are engaged in an 
 unlawful act. For example, if when driving for 
 you, your motor driver negligently knocks some 
 one down you are liable to the injured person. On 
 the other hand, the agent must display the utmost 
 good faith in his dealings with his principal. He 
 must not make secret profits or use his position to 
 secure advantages for himself except with the con- 
 sent of his principal. 
 
 Qui facet consentire videtur. 
 
 He who is silent appears to consent. 
 
 Note. — In popular phraseology "Silence gives 
 consent" — but this maxim must be applied with 
 great caution. For example: if you propose to a 
 lady, and she says nothing, you must not assume 
 that she consents. On the contrary, the implication 
 is that she does not, unless the silence is accompanied 
 by acts capable of only one construction. 
 
 Res inter alios acta alteri nocere non debet. 
 
 One person ought not to be injured by the acts of others to 
 which he is a stranger. 
 
 Note. — This is one of the leading maxims con- 
 cerning the law of evidence. A man's acts and dec- 
 larations are binding upon him as evidence against 
 himself, but it would be manifestly unjust that he 
 
 [181]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 should be bound by those of strangers who were not 
 his agents. 
 
 Res judicata pro veritate accipitur. 
 
 A thing adjudicated is received as true. 
 
 Note. — When a matter has been adjudicated 
 upon by the Court in proceedings between the same 
 parties it is regarded as settled. 
 
 Expressio unius per sonic vcl rci, est exclusio al- 
 terius. 
 
 The express mention of one person or thing is the exclusion of 
 another. 
 
 Note. — This rule states one of the first principles 
 applicable to the construction of statutes and other 
 documents. Special words override and control 
 general words. To give a crude example, if a docu- 
 ment says that Smith was killed with a sharp instru- 
 ment and then goes on to say that he was killed with 
 a hatchet, the mention of the hatchet excludes any 
 other species of sharp instrument from considera- 
 tion. But caution is necessary when dealing with 
 this maxim, as its application depends upon the in- 
 tention of the parties as discoverable upon the face 
 of the document. 
 
 De minimis non curat lex. 
 
 Of trifles the law does not concern itself. 
 
 Note. — This rule applies to all legal matters. It 
 is not restricted to evidence. Trifles are often im- 
 [182]
 
 LEGAL MAXIMS 
 
 portant, but the law preserves a sense of propor- 
 tion. 
 
 Nimia subtilitas in jure reprobatur. 
 
 Nice and subtle distinctions are not sanctioned by law. 
 Note. — See the previous maxim. 
 
 Cuilibet in sua arte perito est credendum. 
 
 Whosoever is skilled in his profession is to be believed. 
 
 Note. — This maxim applies to doctors, lawyers, 
 surveyors, architects and others who are called upon 
 to give technical advice or evidence. But note the 
 word "skilled." Much discretion is required when 
 selecting the expert upon whom to rely. You want 
 to be sure that he is "skilled." Expert witnesses 
 are allowed to give opinions, whereas ordinary wit- 
 nesses as a rule must speak to the facts only. 
 
 In jure non remota causa, sed proxima spectatur. 
 
 In law the proximate, and not the remote, cause is to be 
 regarded. 
 
 Note. — This is a salutary maxim. Life is made 
 up of "one damn thing after another," and each 
 thing hinges on some other thing like the House- 
 that-Jack-Built. Consequently the law confines it- 
 self to the immediate cause. The person, however, 
 who does an act is responsible for the natural 
 and necessary consequences. For example, where 
 the defendant threw a lighted squib into a market- 
 house during a fair, and the squib fell upon a stall, 
 
 [183]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 and the stall-keeper to protect himself threw the 
 squib upon another stall from which it was again 
 thrown, thus blinding the plaintiff, it was decided 
 that the person who originally threw the squib was 
 liable for the damages sustained by the blinded man. 
 
 Injuria non prccsumitar. 
 
 Injury is not to be presumed. 
 
 Note. — It must be proved. 
 
 Interpretatio talis in ambiguis semper fienda, est, 
 ut evitetur inconveniens et absurdum. 
 
 In ambiguous things such an interpretation is to be made, that 
 what is inconvenient and absurd is to be avoided. 
 
 Note. — This requires no comment. 
 
 Nullus commodum capere potest de injuria sua pro- 
 pria. 
 
 No one can take advantage of his own wrong. 
 
 Note. — This maxim expresses one of the primary- 
 rules of justice. Supposing, for example, that 
 Smith contracts with Jones to do certain work 
 within a certain time, Jones finding the materials, 
 and the materials are not forthcoming, Jones can- 
 not, if the work is not completed in the stipulated 
 time, sue Smith for breach of contract. 
 
 Omnia pr&sumuntur contra spoliatorem. 
 
 All things are presumed against a wrong-doer. 
 
 Note. — In an earlier chapter I mentioned the 
 leading case upon this subject — Armory v. Dela- 
 [184]
 
 LEGAL MAXIMS 
 
 mirie — which arose out of the conduct of a dishonest 
 jeweller who stole a diamond from a sweep's boy 
 who had found it. The jeweller failing to produce 
 the stone, the Court held that the boy was entitled 
 to restitution on the assumption that the stone was 
 of the finest class. In another case a portion of a 
 diamond necklace which had been stolen was found 
 in the defendant's possession shortly after the rob- 
 bery. The owner was held entitled to recover the 
 value of the whole necklace. 
 
 Verba intentioni, non e contra, debent inservire. 
 
 Words ought to be made subservient to the intent, not con- 
 trary to it. 
 
 Note. — In construing documents the object of 
 the Court is to ascertain the intention of the parties 
 and to give effect to it. 
 
 Certum est quod cerium reddi potest. 
 
 That is certain which is able to be rendered certain. 
 
 Note. — This rather obvious truth applies in legal 
 affairs mostly to the construction of deeds, e.g., If 
 a deed provides that so much money shall be paid 
 to A for his services as B shall determine, although 
 the amount is uncertain in the deed it is capable of 
 being made specific by B's award. 
 
 Id certum est quod certum reddi potest; sed id 
 magis certum est quod de semet ipso est certum. 
 
 That is certain which can be made certain, but that is most 
 certain which is certain on the face of it. 
 
 Note. — This needs no comment. 
 
 [185]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 ConfessiOj facto in judicio, omni probatione major 
 
 Cst. 
 
 A confession made in judicial proceedings is of greater force 
 than all proof. 
 
 Note. — This maxim must he applied with a large 
 grain of salt. A plea of guilty takes a lot of ex- 
 planation, hut it is not uncommon for innocent per- 
 sons to make such a pica with various ohjects. 
 
 De ?i07i apparentibtts, et non existentibus, eadem est 
 
 ratio. 
 
 Of things which do not appear and things which do not exist, 
 the rule in legal proceedings is the same. 
 
 Note. — As a general rule, the law acts only upon 
 things proved in evidence. There are, however, 
 some matters of which the Courts will take judicial 
 notice without proof. For example, statutes, Par- 
 liamentary proceedings, privileges of the House of 
 Commons, etc. 
 
 Ignorantia facti excusat; ignorantia juris non ex- 
 cusat. 
 
 Ignorance of the fact excuses; ignorance of the law does not 
 excuse. 
 
 Note. — In theory every one is supposed to know 
 the law, except children under a certain age and 
 insane persons. On the other hand, ignorance of a 
 material fact may excuse a party from the legal 
 consequences of his conduct. For example, in the 
 absence of fraud money paid with full knowledge 
 [186]
 
 LEGAL MAXIMS 
 
 of the facts but through ignorance of the law is not 
 recoverable, whereas the contrary applies where 
 money is paid in ignorance of the facts. Thus where 
 credit was not given in an account for a sum already 
 paid by the plaintiff who, in mistake and in the 
 hurry of business, paid the balance shown to be due, 
 he was allowed to recover the amount overpaid. 
 
 Those who are interested in this subject should 
 read Broom's "Legal Maxims" or Wharton's 
 "Legal Maxims." The latter is best suited for the 
 lay-reader and is a most instructive little book. I 
 am indebted to Wharton for the translations of the 
 maxims quoted. 
 
 [187]
 
 XVI: THE MORAL DUTY OF BELIEF
 
 XVI 
 THE MORAL DUTY OF BELIEF 
 
 How prone to doubt, how cautious are the wise! 
 
 — Alexander Pope. 
 
 It is not surprising that the ordinary rules for 
 judging evidence are rarely applied to statements 
 concerning spiritualism and kindred subjects. To 
 test such statements by means similar to those which 
 we apply to discover whether Mr. A. is a fraudulent 
 trustee or whether Mr. B. murdered his wife seems 
 to border upon the irreverent. The idea of entering 
 the presence of a disembodied spirit accompanied by 
 an Old Bailey lawyer, a detective, and a conjurer is 
 repulsive and incongruous. Indeed, we are told 
 that an unsympathetic, suspicious atmosphere is cal- 
 culated to frustrate the success of such experiments, 
 and we can well appreciate the truth of this conten- 
 tion. What, then, should be our attitude when con- 
 sidering psychic phenomena? My object is to en- 
 deavour to answer this question. 
 
 It is the duty of every one to abstain from form- 
 ing important beliefs without adequate evidence to 
 support them. In this respect we have a duty not 
 only to ourselves but to the community. The be- 
 
 [191]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 liefs and mode of thinking of the humblest citizens 
 are part and parcel of that wonderful web of 
 thought which forms the character and tradition of 
 the race. Therefore, notwithstanding the objec- 
 tions above-mentioned, it becomes necessary to con- 
 sider how we should test the evidence of psychic phe- 
 nomena. Here we are at once faced with the diffi- 
 cult problem which has caused endless discussion, 
 viz.: To what extent are we entitled to rely upon 
 the authority of others when forming beliefs regard- 
 ing subjects beyond our personal knowledge and 
 experience? At almost every turn in life we are 
 called upon to rely upon the judgment or state- 
 ments of other people, and mankind has evolved two 
 useful tests for use on such occasions. 
 
 First. — Is our informant or adviser honest? 
 
 Second. — Does he know what he is talking about? 
 
 Assuming a satisfactory reply to the first ques- 
 tion, obviously the answer to the second must often 
 present serious difficulties where technical or sci- 
 entific subjects are involved. If you require an 
 architect, a medical specialist, or an electrician, can 
 you hope to make an effective choice if you are ig- 
 norant of architecture, medicine, or electricity? 
 Most of us solve the difficulty by consulting a per- 
 son famous in his profession, sometimes forgetting 
 that often professional men do not become famous 
 until they are old and old-fashioned. Another 
 method, and a good one, is to obtain recommenda- 
 tions from persons who have had occasion for similar 
 [192]
 
 THE MORAL DUTY OF BELIEF 
 
 services. But one thing is certain. We do not go 
 to a professor or literary man if we desire to investi- 
 gate the credit or character of a person with whom 
 we are about to have business relations. We con- 
 sult a lawyer or private detective. This brings us 
 to spiritualism, thought-transference, etc. There is 
 no doubt that the glamour of great names has led 
 people to credit stories and to form beliefs which, 
 but for the advocacy and sanction of the persons 
 bearing such names, they would have rejected. 
 Does the fact that a man is a great authority on 
 electricity, physics, or literature constitute him an 
 authority on psychic phenomena and the credibility 
 of witnesses and mediums? 
 
 A knowledge of electricity and physics does not 
 imply special qualifications for investigating and 
 judging such evidence. Unfortunately, we know 
 that the history of alleged abnormal occurrences is 
 thickly strewn with cases of fraud and mad delusion. 
 Consequently the credibility and sanity of the me- 
 dium or testifier is an important item in a spiritual- 
 istic or thought transference experiment. A pro- 
 fessor may be an adept in dealing with volts and 
 electrons, but in dealing with unscrupulous or neu- 
 rotic men and women he may be simple and easily 
 deceived. I should attach more importance to the 
 judgment of a skilled conjurer assisted by a shrewd 
 private detective. It may be said that we are not 
 expected to act on authority, and that every one is 
 entitled to examine the evidence for himself; but 
 
 [193]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 the fact remains that many people credit these sto- 
 ries because distinguished men believe them to he 
 
 true. It must he remembered id addition that 
 very few seekers after truth have the qualifications 
 or facilities for making such investigations, which 
 involve all sorts of different questions, some medi- 
 cal, some personal, and some psychological. To put 
 the matter in a nutshell, those who hold these views 
 base their heliefs on the fact that mediums make 
 communications from spirits containing information 
 previously unknown to the mediums, and which 
 must therefore have heen communicated to them by 
 the spirits. The whole thing may he a fraud, or it 
 may be capable of some less dramatic explanation. 
 If thought-reading is a fact, it would he more fea- 
 sible that the medium, consciously if fraudulent, or 
 unconsciously if honest, should secure his or her in- 
 formation from one of the spirit's friends who may 
 happen to be present. This would he remarkable, 
 but far less so than communications from the spirit 
 world. 
 
 Most mediums perform for money, and those w T ho 
 do not derive notoriety and kudos from the posses- 
 sion of their alleged mystic powers. These facts 
 make the utmost caution necessary. No experiment 
 is worth the name which is not carried out hy inde- 
 pendent investigators who enter upon the experi- 
 ment without bias. Spiritualistic and thought- 
 transference enthusiasts are usually receptive. 
 They are looking for evidence to support beliefs 
 [194]
 
 THE MORAL DUTY OF BELIEF 
 
 already formed. Of course it may be said that all 
 scientific investigation is made upon these lines. 
 The inquirer forms an hypothesis, and then endeav- 
 ours to test it. But an hypothesis is a different 
 thing from a belief, and we know from experience 
 that the vital issues involved and the ardent long- 
 ing which many people have to communicate with 
 the dead produce almost ecstatic beliefs which are 
 inimical to level-minded investigation. 
 
 The systematic probing of evidence is rare ex- 
 cept in a law court or scientific laboratory. In 
 dealing with psychic research most of us are inclined 
 to believe what we consider possible and not what 
 has been proved. There is a marked difference be- 
 tween "it may be" and "it is." In the case of 
 thought-transference we are all acquainted with the 
 argument, "There is no doubt that in everyday life 
 some people can read the thoughts of others. There- 
 fore it was quite possible that Mr. A. could tell Mr. 
 B. the number of a bank-note which Mr. B. took out 
 of his pocket and examined during the experiment 
 without disclosing the number to any other person." 
 I do not suggest that this and other miraculous 
 feats may not be performed, but the questions in 
 each case are: — 
 
 First . — Was it performed ? And 
 
 Second. — Was it performed by means of thought- 
 reading or was it done by means of a trick? 
 
 We have not to consider the possibilities but the 
 facts in each experiment. One performer may be 
 
 [195]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 genuine, while another may l>e a fraud, and strange 
 happenings may be due to natural causes. If we 
 
 wish t<> colled data on which to base an induction, 
 we must sec that in each instance we arrive at the 
 
 truth irrespective of possibilities. This is the A 
 B C of scientific investigation. As Huxley says: 
 
 "The development of exact natural knowledge in 
 all its vast range, from physics to history and criti- 
 cism, is the consequence of the working out, in this 
 province, of the resolution to 'take nothing for truth 
 without clear knowledge that it is such'; to consider 
 all beliefs open to criticism; to regard the value of 
 authority as neither greater nor less than as much 
 as it can prove itself to be worth." 
 
 Not having examined the evidence, I do not ven- 
 ture to express an opinion upon the merits of the 
 controversy concerning spiritualism and thought- 
 transference. My only object is to insist upon the 
 vital necessity, in the interests of the individual and 
 the community, of abstaining from adopting im- 
 portant beliefs without strict investigation of the 
 facts. Those who are interested in this aspect of the 
 discussion may read with advantage an essay by the 
 late Professor W. K. Clifford, called "The Ethics 
 of Belief," published in Lectures and Essays. 
 
 Perhaps I may be permitted to say a few words 
 from the point of view of the man in the street con- 
 cerning certain recent and striking arguments by 
 my friend Sir Oliver Lodge. For the most part he 
 merely repeats what has been said in one form or 
 [196]
 
 THE MORAL DUTY OF BELIEF 
 
 another by philosophers of various schools since the 
 time of Homer. In effect he says we possess a soul 
 and that mind and matter are two different things. 
 In other words, he rejects the mechanistic or ma- 
 terialistic theory, and claims the reality of psycho- 
 physical interaction — to use the jargon of the craft. 
 Needless to say, these views are widely held by peo- 
 ple of all classes, including distinguished men of 
 science. There is nothing new about them, and, in- 
 volving as they do the vital question of the immor- 
 tality of the soul or reason, no subject has been more 
 violently debated or given rise to more theories. 
 According to Mr. William McDougal (see his in- 
 teresting book on "Body and Mind") : "in spite of 
 heated controversy the question still remains just 
 where Aristotle left it, with this difference only — 
 that we are beginning to acquire that understanding 
 of the nature and extent of the bodily processes in- 
 volved in mental activity, the lack of which necessi- 
 tated the suspension of judgment in the truly sci- 
 entific mind of Aristotle." He means that there 
 is now a mass of carefully collected evidence re- 
 garding our mental functions which demands care- 
 ful study by any person who wishes to form a 
 belief on this important subject. 
 
 When all is said, Sir Oliver Lodge's only contri- 
 bution to the discussion is the alleged proof of im- 
 mortality supplied through the instrumentality of 
 mediums and other testifiers. Obviously, the value 
 of this contribution depends on the authenticity of 
 
 [197]
 
 SOME THINGS THAT MATTER 
 
 the evidence on which it is based. It may well be 
 possible t<> confute M. Charles Richet by arguments 
 proving that mind is something more than matter, 
 but that in no way proves or tends to prove the 
 spiritualistic theories of Sir Oliver Lodge. He 
 fairly points out that if the mechanistic theory is 
 correct, then there is an end of spiritualism. He 
 tells us that "if memory resides in the brain, access 
 to lost memory and personality through the agency 
 of survivors is hopeless: for there are no survivors." 
 Therefore, he is bent on destroying the mechanistic 
 doctrine. The reader will do well to note, how- 
 ever, that assuming that Sir Oliver is right, and that 
 the mechanists are wrong, this does not prove that 
 Sir Oliver and his coadjutors are correct in their 
 further assumption that the soul or reason can exist 
 apart from the body, or that, if it can, we can get 
 into communication with it through the channels on 
 which he places reliance. There are three separate 
 and distinct points which must not be confused: — 
 
 First. — Does mind exist apart from matter, i.e., 
 the molecules of the brain and nerve-centres? 
 
 Second. — If it does, can it continue in any — and, 
 if so, what — shape after death? And 
 
 Third. — Are Sir Oliver Lodge and those who 
 think with him right when they allege the possibility 
 of communicating with departed spirits? 
 
 Of course, an affirmative reply to No. 3 settles 
 Nos. 1 and 2, but the settlement in the affirmative 
 [198]
 
 THE MORAL DUTY OF BELIEF 
 
 of No. 1 or of Nos. 1 and 2 does not by any means 
 imply No. 3. 
 
 Not being a scientific man, it is not for me to 
 make a statement regarding the considered opinion 
 of the scientific world on Nos. 1 and 2. No doubt 
 there are two violent camps, as there always have 
 been. Whether we are nearer a scientific solution 
 of these much-debated questions I for one cannot 
 say; but from what I have read I should imagine 
 that nowadays the affirmative of No. 1 has a pretty 
 strong backing, supported by evidence which seems 
 reliable, but that No. 2 is regarded as doubtful and 
 disputable. As for No. 3, I have no comment to 
 make, except that, if any one were to bring such 
 evidence as satisfies Sir Oliver and his friends to 
 me in connection with a business proposition, I 
 should want to look into it very carefully. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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