The standard of speaking was not as high as it has been in former years. The winning speech was excellent but not outstanding. With few exceptions the speeches were stiff, formal bogus-orations with an overdose of blah. In all cases save one, the style of speaking (as well as two of the characters) came from a period long past. The genuine oration of the twentieth century is not the pontifical utterances of a Pitt, a Sheridan, or a Burke; and as speaker succeeded speaker on Saturday night one couldn't help wishing that a compulsory course of dos Passos was a pre-requisite for Plunket Medal competitors. To read a thumbnail biography such as "William Randolph Hearst" in "The Big Money" gives a clear idea in prose of what a present-day oration can and should be. The aim of the orator is, of course, to stir the emotions of his audience. To do this today it is necessary to speak to the audience instead of across, or at, or in front of them. Ron Meek's speech was an object-lesson in how to do this.

Notes were, generally speaking, much too prominent. The speaker is free to use his own method of speaking, but large sheets of notepaper (especially blue notepaper) surely should be dispensed with.

Krishnamurti and Kropotkin

Mr. Meek showed the other speakers two very important tilings about modern oratory. I hope the lesson will be learned. The first is that effect is gained by concentration of reason instead of by harmonious sonorous phrasing alone. Both if you can do it. But no wind. The second was the distinct and visible contact established naturally between speaker and audience. In a very few minutes Mr. Meek's outline of a few of Krishnamurti's beliefs, by their unexpected simplicity and unusual content, made a striking appeal to his hearers—an appeal that remained the only one of its kind that evening.

Jack Lewin's speech on Prince Kropotkin was a speech of lost opportunities. An excellent exposition of Kropotkin's philosophy, delivered in apt phrases and striking sentences, was marred by a persistent falling inflexion. Sentences such as "Oh! the mockery of it!" delivered without sufficient force, tended to become bathetic. Mr. Leewin's passage describing the community of the future temporarily revealed by a break in the clouds of time was one of the bright spots of the evening.

"In Ancient Days"

Mr. Braybrooke opened in the approved sonorous style, but before long conveyed the suspicion that he was attributing to Strafford an influence on English history which in other circumstances he would not subscribe to. It was possibly a little much to expect the audience to believe that Wentworth's desertion to the King could be explained by his "honest conviction."

The main part of the speech was too much a chronicle to allow the speaker to climb to real oratory. Mr. Braybrooke's posture militated against this also. At times, the position of his hands and notes was strongly suggestive of a telegraph messenger offering what he knew to be unwelcome news.

In offering him for our consideration (3 times), Mr. McCulloch explained to us that the character of Edmund Burke was without moral blemish and he made some extravagant claims to back this statement. "No one who has ever lived has used the principles of the thinkers to Judge the immediate problems of the statesman so successfully." I wonder how this can be reconciled with "Thoughts on the French Revolution"? If Mr. McCulloch gave more Ideas and fewer words it would be a big improvement. To say that Burke (rep resenting a Rotten Borough in a nation which was then less than 20 per cent enfranchised) "held himself trustee for the interests of the whole nation" is a little hard to expect even a Plunket Medal audience to swallow, accustomed as it is to hyperbole.

Arabia Deserta

The best planned speech of the evening was Bob Edgley's effort on T. E. Lawrence. To select the main points in so complicated and tangled a life, to reject so much that must have seemed necessary, and to combine the mental conflict in Lawrence's mind with the conflict of his promises to the Arabs and the Interests of Britain and French imperialism; to mirror the clash in the deliberations round the council table at Versailles was an exceedingly able piece of work. However, a good speech was marred by that fatal falling inflexion, and an Insufficient sense of the dramatic.

"A Flaming Volcano"

Mr. Renouf's speech on Kagawa was marred by a nasal intonation. At times unexpected and undue emphasis on unimportant words made the speech sound like a power surge from 2ZB.

"For 15 years Kagawa lived in the slums proclaiming always that God is love: where there is God there is love." Mr. Renouf should read Professor Tawney on "Religion and the Rise of Capitalism." Get a man who suits you, Frank.

Mr. McDonald reopened the 1919 Peace Conference with the most promising of beginnings delivered in a clear voice and an easy natural manner. The middle of the speech was, as was all too common in the contest, a series of events chronologically arranged. Mustapha Kemal was finally put to bed 111 in 1938 and the audience settled back for a good solid two minutes peroration, which did not materialise. Specially commendable and successful features of Mr. McDonald's work were the variations of sentence length, and the clear arrangement of the whole speech. That falling Inflexion was again the besetting sin.

Huntin', Shootin' and Fishin'

Bert Foley was responsible for a little unexpected humour. When speaking of Rutherford the boy, he referred to him as "Young Lord Rutherford as he was then;" and again later when he mentioned the boy's fondness for hunting, shooting, and fishing.

With more practice, the development of self-confidence, and hence originality of treatment, Mr Foley will do better.

Up the Irish!

Ben O'Connor produced the winning speech. His biographical details were dealt with economically and wisely, leaving him time and reserves of power to use in a dignified, forceful, and one is almost tempted to say, noble statement of de Valera's aims, "Ireland her own from the soil to the sky." This delivered with two minutes to go, shrewdly aroused the expectations of the audience which were gratifyingly realised in a pas sage on patriotism, the sentiments of which, though a little narrow, were an Improvement on the general ideas on that emotion, sufficient to Justify the applause with which the conclusion of the speech was greeted.

The Minstrels and the Verdict

It remained for Martin Liddle's singing to produce an emotional effect of a really high order, his Hungarian song. "Had a Horse," being for many the highlight of the evening. Other enjoy able items were also given by Kingston Braybrooke and Vesta Emanuel.

The Hon, W. E. Barnard, speaking on behalf of his co-Judges, Mr. W. E. Leicester and Miss I. Wilson, paid the competitors the compliment of saying that he had enjoyed listening to these speeches much more than the speeches he was generally obliged to listen to in the House. "The Judges," he sold, "have experienced some little difficulty in deciding between Mr. O'Connor and Mr. Meek, but have decided in favour of Mr. O'Connor by a narrow margin." The hearty applause with which this statement was greeted showed that the audience concurred in the verdict.—S.