page 31

The Plunket Medal Competition

The Contest for the Plunket Medal is hindered by certain unavoidable limitation. The restriction to 12 minutes prevents a speaker from warming to his subject and hardly permits of real eloquence, which, as Dr Goldwin Smith has well said, is "always the glow of truth." Again, it is not a debate, and hence lends no facilities for impromptu speech or unexpected interludes, humorous or otherwise. Nevertheless it is a display of public speaking, the very difficulties of which prove the mettle of the competitors as they enhance the task of the judges.

Throughout the long struggle against Napoleon no man gave greater service to Britain, and indeed to Europe, than Nelson. By the victory of the Nile (August 1st, 1798) Napoleon was isolated, and his expedition to Egypt made an irrevocable failure. The battle of Trafalgar (October 11th, 1805) made a French invasion of England impossible. Mr Devine might have done better by making these two great achievements the centre, as it were, round which to weave the life-story of his hero. It would have been rather more appropriate than recording the increases of emolument earned as the great Admiral's career advanced. Yet Mr Devine did well. His enunciation was clear, and his diction good. He did not speak too fast, finished his sentences well, and, though at the outset he gave one the impression of having committed too much to memory, he spoke with the appearance of spontaneity as he proceeded. There was some deficiency in gesture in that the hands appeared immobile, but the general effect of the effort was good. Mr Devine gave a good account of himself, but he can easily do better than achieve fourth place.

Mr Bergin was obviously handicapped by the prevailing malady, dreaded by all public speakers, a common cold. Nevertheless, his enunciation was good, there was some picturesque phrasing, his gestures were appropriate, he presented his case dramatically, and so made a good impression on his hearers—the real test of merit after all. The speech appeared to have been well planned, but not memorised, and the speaker, though fluent, did not speak too rapidly. The life of Pasteur, of course, stirs one's admiration and so lights up the enthusiasm of the reader. I attended a lecture on Pasteur shortly after his death in 1895, and I remember well the effect on the audience when the speaker described how the great Lister, who had applied Pasteur's discoveries long before they had been accepted generally by the medical profession, meeting the great Frenchman for the first time at a conference, in Paris I believe, did not await an introduction, but rushed forward, embraced him, and burst into tears. Mr Bergin was not less an admirer of Pasteur, and his enthusiasm probably contributed to his success in winning first place.

Mr McCulloch was equally sincere in his admiration for Mahatma Gandhi. His speech gave us a picture of India, and the speaker evinced the courage that springs from conviction when he ventured to reprimand, during a time of war, the errors of British Imperialism. The speech was well arranged and instructive, and the compendious presentation of the political situation in India enhanced its interest, and so page 32 captured the attention of the audience. The speaker's enunciation was good and his sentences well framed. The effort lost much of its effect, however, from the lack of appropriate bodily movement. Mr McCulloch moved his head, but kept his hands altogether too stationary. Though placed third, he ran almost a dead-heat, if I may import a phrase from the racecourse, for second place.

The competitor who pressed hardest for first place was Mr Sheehan. Of all the speakers he had the easiest manner, and appeared to speak with the greatest spontaneity. He used his hands well and in a perfectly natural manner. His voice inflection was good, the subject matter—Salazar's achievements in Portugal—informative, and so he held the attention of his auditors throughout. He was full to his subject, as it were, and hence had a tendency to hasten, doubtless because he was apprehensive of the time limit. He would have covered less ground had he paused rather more on the conclusion of each period, but he would have been even more impressive, and probably would have gained first place. He gave such an account of himself that we naturally expect to hear of him again.

Mr Cope (Napoleon) is a speaker who could have done much better. He had altogether too many notes, and he referred to them so often that there were many awkward pauses. Apart from these, however, a speaker will never be impressive unless he looks continually at his audience. Watch a practised barrister addressing a jury. He does not look at anyone in particular, but he faces the jury and talks to them. He would irritate them if he halted at frequent intervals to peruse notes, and the delay in finding what he wanted would spoil his address completely. Here we may take a lesson also from the pulpit. The preacher looks at his congregation throughout because he wants to impress them. He may have a few headings written out, but he never seems to look at them. Should a speaker dispense with notes? In my opinion, the fewer he uses the better. Certainly they should be few, and should be written in capitals so that each may be readily appealed to. It is my opinion, however, that, if the speaker becomes thoroughly conversant with his subject, he can dispense with notes altogether, and his speech will be better in every respect for the omission. Otherwise Mr Cope proved himself a capable speaker. He was easily heard, and his language was good. The copious notes put him out of the contest.

Mr Powell, who made excessive use of notes also, gave one the impression rather that he was reading an essay. In looking alternatively at his notes and then at the audience, there were the inevitable pauses, and hence the speech, despite its good matter, was unimpressive. Towards the conclusion there was some improvement, but it was too late to recapture the lost ground. Otherwise Mr Powell displayed some of the qualities of a good public speaker, and so I hope he will not be discouraged.

Mr Stacey, an ardent admirer of Oliver Cromwell, has a good voice, and his language was well chosen, but his lack of movement made his speech heavy and uninteresting. Above all things a speaker should display animation. He should not appear immobile as a statue. Mr Stacey spoke with sufficient deliberation to be impressive if his bodily movements corresponded reasonably with his periods.

In conclusion and by way of encouragement to the less successful competitors, I relate two historical anecdotes. Disraeli's first speech in the House of Commons was an utter failure. When Charles Stewart Parnell first attempted a speech as a candidate for parliamentary honours, he made such a poor impression that his best friends regretted his selection as a candidate.

Mr Justice O'Regan