They are remembered as the great marathon endurance test of American politics – the 19th-century campaign equivalent of the Tour de France (without the benefit of bicycles). Pitting two indefatigable U.S. Senate – and future presidential – candidates, Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas, they presented them one on one, face to face, Republican vs. Democrat, in seven three-hour-long, unscripted debates. All 21 hours took place outdoors, before thousands of rapt onlookers, weather notwithstanding, no holds barred, and without microphones – a truly Olympian confrontation.

For generations, the Lincoln-Douglas debates have been portrayed as the zenith of political oratory, too. In truth, their substance proved less than inspiring. But they did attract throngs of people, reached tens of thousands more who followed the transcripts in their local newspapers, and in the end helped motivate a huge turnout of voters. With the possible exception of the first televised presidential debates in 1960 between John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon, no political confrontation since has so gripped the public. And that is too bad. The Lincoln-Douglas lesson suggests that the public, even today’s jaded, sound byte saturated, couch potato generation may want – and certainly needs – as many debates as it can get.

Are seven debates too much to ask for in 2004? Perhaps worth remembering, as the Bush and Kerry camps begin negotiating this year’s plans, is that in 1858, the Lincoln-Douglas schedule seemed too skimpy for the voracious Lincoln. When the challenger first asked Senator Douglas to “divide time, and address the same audiences,” he had in mind 50 joint meetings, maybe even 100.

In the end, the incumbent agreed to only one debate in each of Illinois’s nine congressional districts, and to rub it in, he told Lincoln that he had already used up two opportunities by following him to Chicago and Springfield and rebutting him, uninvited. Lincoln seized the crumbs and made history. He lost the election for Senate – even though his party won the popular vote, a now-familiar fate – but set the bar high for what we expect candidates to endure, and demonstrate, to be taken seriously.

The Lincoln-Douglas format put modern “debates” to shame: no moderators or journalists to pose questions, no attempt to hush the audience or stifle the candidates, no 60-second answers. Sixty minutes is what the opening speaker took in each Lincoln-Douglas opening round. The other candidate then had a full hour and a half to reply, after which the original speaker returned for a 30-minute rejoinder. In both hot sun and windy chill – weather once so threatening that planners moved the platform against a college building to shield the candidates from the wind – the debaters stood their ground, used the full power of their minds and lungs, and kept as many as 15,000 participants at a time, most standing on their feet, boiling with enthusiasm.

Senator Kerry expects three debates. President Bush reportedly wants but two. Formats are bound to be determined by broadcasters to fit neatly into prime time and tax the audience and the debaters as little as possible. The post-event spin-doctors will probably have the most interesting things to say.

Should voters demand more? Surely no one expects modern candidates to devote 21 hours to free-for-all discussion – even if it would really tell us what the White House aspirants know, believe, feel, and plan. But why not at least seven debates in the Lincoln-Douglas tradition? Why not make at least one of them a three-hour marathon: no questions, just frank talk for 60 minutes,90 minutes,and 30 minutes at a stretch, during which each candidate makes his case on his own terms, and shows if he has real chops – as Lincoln and Douglas did?

The real winners would be the voters.