Most arguments have a more or less formal ending. Both writers and speakers, when seeking to influence the beliefs and acts of others, have usually deemed it advisable, upon completing their proof, to add a few summarizing words and to make a final appeal to the emotions. This part of the argument that comes at the close and that contains no new proof is called the conclusion, or the peroration. In spoken argument, occasionally, the conclusion is wholly ignored. If at any time, regardless of the point he may have reached, an arguer clearly perceives that he has won his case, he is wise to stop immediately and avoid the danger of adding anything that might possibly detract from his success. Such an experience may frequently happen to a salesman, a preacher, a lawyer. Arguments, however, that are written or that are delivered before large audiences cannot be curtailed in this way. Under such conditions the arguer is unable to tell when he has won his case: he must use all his proof and make it emphatic in every way possible. Therefore the student who is arguing for the sake of practice will do well to disregard exceptions and to close all his arguments, both written and spoken, with a peroration.

The same two elements—conviction and persuasion—that make up the introduction and the discussion are ordinarily found also in the conclusion. The general principles that govern the proportionate amount of each to be used in the first two divisions of an argument apply equally to the third division. In every case the relative amount of space to be devoted to conviction and to persuasion depends upon the nature of the subject and the attitude of the audience. In some instances a conclusion should consist wholly of conviction; in other instances persuasion should predominate; most commonly there should be a judicious combination of both.

In concluding an argument before the United States Supreme Court on the question of whether or not a certain law passed in New York was repugnant to the Constitution or consistent with it, Webster spoke as follows:—

To recapitulate what has been said, we maintain, first, that the Constitution, by its grants to Congress and its prohibitions on the States, has sought to establish one uniform standard of value, or medium of payment. Second, that, by like means, it has endeavored to provide for one uniform mode of discharging debts when they are to be discharged without payment. Third, that these objects are connected, and that the first loses much of its importance, if the last, also, be not accomplished. Fourth, that, reading the grant to Congress, and the prohibition on the States together, the inference is strong that the Constitution intended to confer exclusive power to pass bankrupt laws on Congress. Fifth, that the prohibition in the tenth section reaches to all contracts, existing or future, in the same way that the other prohibition in the same section extends to all debts existing or future. Sixth, that, upon any other construction, one great political object of the Constitution will fail of its accomplishment. [Footnote: The Case of Ogden and Saunders. Webster's Great Speeches, page 188. Little, Brown & Co.]

In this conclusion, it will be noticed, there is no persuasion. Apparently the subject was of such a nature that only clear and logical reasoning was required. An appeal to the emotions would undoubtedly have been out of place. In direct contrast to the preceding method of summarizing a speech a good example of a persuasive conclusion may be found in The Dartmouth College Case, which Webster argued before this same tribunal, and which also involved the constitutionality of a State law. In this peroration Webster's emotional appeal was so strong that, it is said, there was not a dry eye in the court room.

In writing as well as in speaking one must allow common sense to decide what shall be the nature of his peroration. The following is a typical example of a conclusion into which persuasion cannot well enter. It is taken from the close of a chapter, selected at random, in Darwin's Structure and Distribution of Coral Reefs.

It has, I think, been shown in this chapter, that subsidence explains both the normal structure and the less regular forms of those two great classes of reefs which have justly excited the astonishment of all the naturalists who have sailed through the Pacific and Indian oceans. The necessity, also, that a foundation should have existed at the proper depth for the growth of the corals over certain large areas, almost compels us to accept this theory. But further to test its truth a crowd of questions may be asked…. These several questions will be considered in the following chapter.

A type of conclusion far more common and usually far more effective is one that not only refers to the preceding arguments but also contains considerable persuasion. The peroration marks the final opportunity for the arguer to move his audience. Here he should make his greatest effort. Since belief and action ordinarily depend upon both the intellect and the will, the arguer who would attain success must appeal to both. Merely to call to mind the proof that he has advanced is seldom enough: he must arouse the emotions. The peroration of an argument is like the finish of a race or the last charge in a battle. In the conclusion the arguer should use his greatest skill, his strongest eloquence. Here are found the most inspiring passages in the masterpieces of oratory.

Some of the various ways for reaching the emotions have been pointed out in the chapter dealing with persuasion in the introduction. These same suggestions apply equally well to persuasion in the conclusion. The best advice that can be given, however, is for one to use his common sense. He must consider his subject, his audience, his ability, and his own interest in the case—all the circumstances in connection with his argument—and then depend, not upon some set formula, but upon his judgment to tell him in what way he can best be persuasive. The following illustrations will give some idea of how successful writers and speakers have concluded their arguments with persuasion. Notice the patriotic appeal in the first quotation:—

Whether we have or have not degenerated compared with (say) fifty or a hundred years ago may be a question difficult to settle, but it is quite clear that we are pitifully, disastrously below the normal standard of manhood and womanhood which a great nation should set itself.

Adequate nourishment for our children, immunity from exhausting and mechanical employments at the most critical period of adolescence, an extension of educational influences—can there be any objects of expenditures more likely than these to repay themselves a thousandfold in the improved vigor and intelligence which form the only sure basis of a nation's greatness? [Footnote: Frances E. Warwick, Fortnightly Review, Vol. LXXIX, p. 515.]

In the following the speaker points out the awful responsibility resting upon the jury and exhorts them to render justice:—

Let me, therefore, remind you, that though the day may soon come when our ashes shall be scattered before the winds of heaven, the memory of what you do cannot die. It will carry down to your posterity your honor or your shame. In the presence, and in the name of that everliving God, I do therefore conjure you to reflect that you have your characters, your consciences, that you have also the character, perhaps the ultimate destiny, of your country in your hands. In that awful name I do conjure you to have mercy upon your country and upon yourselves, and so to judge now as you will hereafter be judged; and I do now submit the fate of my client, and of that country which we have yet in common to your disposal. [Footnote: John Philpot Curran, On the Liberty of the Press.]

In the following extract from the conclusion of Webster's plea in The Dartmouth College Case consider how he showed the magnitude of the question that was at issue:—

The case before the court is not of ordinary importance, nor of everyday occurrence. It affects not this college only, but every college, and all the literary institutions of the country. They have flourished hitherto, and have become in a high degree respectable and useful to the community. They have all a common principle of existence, the inviolability of their charters. It will be a dangerous, a most dangerous experiment, to hold these institutions subject to the rise and fall of popular parties, and the fluctuation of political opinions. If the franchise may at any time be taken away, or impaired, the property also may be taken away, or impaired, or its use perverted. Benefactors will have no certainty of effecting the object of their bounty; and learned men will be deterred from devoting themselves to the service of such institutions, from the precarious title of their offices. Colleges and halls will be deserted by all better spirits, and become a theatre for the contentions of politics. Party and faction will be cherished in the places consecrated to piety and learning. These consequences are neither remote nor possible only. They are certain and immediate. [Footnote: Webster's Great Speeches, p. 23.]

As a rule, most of the criticisms that can be made of any conclusion pertain to matters of taste and judgment. A writer or speaker may have made too detailed or too brief a summary; he may have erred in choosing the best method of persuasion; he may have injured his argument in almost countless other ways. In these matters a text-book can give only general and rather vague instruction. Each argument must be suited to the particular case in hand. There are several common errors in students' work, however, that should always be avoided and that can definitely be pointed out.

1. An argument should not have an abrupt and jerky ending. It is not uncommon especially in class room debate, to hear a student at the close of his discussion say, "This is my proof; I leave the decision to the judges"; or "Thus you see I have established my proposition." Such an ending can in no way be called a conclusion or a peroration.

2. A conclusion should contain no new proof. Violations of this principle brand an arguer as careless, and greatly weaken his argument. Proof is most convincing when arranged in its proper place and in its logical order. Furthermore, the purpose of the conclusion is to review the points that have already been established. If the arguer forgets this fact and mixes proof with summary, the audience is liable to become badly confused and not know what has been established and what has not.

3. A conclusion should not refer to a point that has not already been established. A careless writer or debater will sometimes state that he has proved an argument which he has not previously touched upon. Such a procedure smacks of trickery or ignorance, and is sure to be disastrous. Not only will the audience throw out that particular point, but they will be highly prejudiced against both the arguer and his argument. It is permissible for one to maintain that he has proved a point even though the proof be somewhat inadequate, but for one to refer in his conclusion to a point that he then mentions for the first time is unpardonable.

4. A conclusion must reaffirm the proposition exactly as stated at the beginning. Sometimes a writer, discovering at the close of his argument that he has not stuck to his subject but has proved something different, or at best has proved only a part of his subject, states as his decision a totally different proposition from that with which he started. To illustrate, a student once attempted to argue on the affirmative side of the proposition, "The United States should discontinue its protective tariff policy"; but he gave as his concluding sentence, "These facts, then, prove to you that our present tariff duties are too high." This last sentence embodied the real proposition which he had discussed, and if he had taken as his subject, "Our present tariff duties are too high," his argument would have been successful. As it was, his failure to support the proposition with which he started rendered his whole effort worthless.

A conclusion that is weaker than the proposition is commonly called a "qualifying conclusion." When one has fallen into this error there are two possible ways of removing it: one is to change the whole argument so that the conclusion will affirm the truth or falsity of the proposition; the other is to change the proposition. In a debate, of course, or whenever a subject is assigned, the latter method cannot be followed.

As a final example of what a good peroration should be, consider the following conclusion of Webster's speech, delivered in the United States Senate, on The Presidential Veto of the United States Bank Bill. Notice the skillful interweaving of conviction and persuasion, and remember in connection with the principle of proportion that this is the conclusion of a speech containing about 14,000 words.

"Mr. President, we have arrived at a new epoch. We are entering on experiments, with the government and the Constitution of the country, hitherto untried, and of fearful and appalling aspect. This message calls us to the contemplation of a future which little resembles the past. Its principles are at war with all that public opinion has sustained, and all which the experience of the government has sanctioned. It denies first principles; it contradicts truths, hitherto received as indisputable. It denies to the judiciary the interpretation of law, and claims to divide with Congress the power of originating statutes. It extends the grasp of executive pretension over every power of the government. But this is not all. It presents the chief magistrate of the Union in the attitude of arguing away the powers of that government over which he has been chosen to preside; and adopting for this purpose modes of reasoning which, even under the influence of all proper feeling towards high official station, it is difficult to regard as respectable. It appeals to every prejudice which may betray men into a mistaken view of their own interests, and to every passion which may lead them to disobey the impulses of their understanding. It urges all the specious topics of State rights and national encroachment against that which a great majority of the States have affirmed to be rightful, and in which all of them have acquiesced. It sows, in an unsparing manner, the seeds of jealousy and ill-will against that government of which its author is the official head. It raises a cry, that liberty is in danger, at the very moment when it puts forth claims to powers heretofore unknown and unheard of. It affects alarm for the public freedom, when nothing endangers that freedom so much as its own unparalleled pretences. This, even, is not all. It manifestly seeks to inflame the poor against the rich; it wantonly attacks whole classes of the people, for the purpose of turning against them the prejudices and the resentment of other classes. It is a state paper which finds no topic too exciting for its use, no passion to inflammable for its address and its solicitation.

"Such is this message. It remains now for the people of the United States to choose between the principles here avowed and their government. These cannot subsist together. The one or the other must be rejected. If the sentiments of the message shall receive general approbation, the Constitution will have perished even earlier than the moment which its enemies originally allowed for the termination of its existence. It will not have survived to its fiftieth year." [Footnote: Webster's Great Speeches, page 338.]