To conclude; when persuasion is the end, passion also must be engaged. If it is fancy which bestows brilliancy on our ideas, if it is memory which gives them stability, passion doth more, it animates them. Hence they derive spirit and energy. To say that it is possible to persuade without speaking to the passions, is but at best a kind of specious nonsense. The coolest reasoner always in persuading addresseth himself to the passions some way or other. This he cannot avoid doing, if he speak to the purpose. To make me believe it is enough to show me that things are so; to make me act, it is necessary to show that the action will answer some end. That can never be an end to me which gratifies no passion or affection in my nature. You assure me, "It is for my honour." Now you solicit my pride, without which I had never been able to understand the word. You say, "It is for my interest." Now you bespeak my self-love. "It is for the public good." Now you rouse my patriotism. "It will relieve the miserable." Now you touch my pity. So far therefore it is from being an unfair method of persuasion to move the passions, that there is no persuasion without moving them.
But if so much depend on passion, where is the scope for argument? Before I answer this question, let it be observed that, in order to persuade, there are two things which must be carefully studied by the orator. The first is, to excite some desire or passion in the hearers; the second is to satisfy their judgment that there is a connexion between the action to which he would persuade them, and the gratification of the desire orpassion which he excites. This is the analysis of persuasion. The former is effected by communicating lively and glowing ideas of the object; the latter, unless so evident of itself as to supersede the necessity, by presenting the best and most forcible arguments which the nature of the subject admits. In the one lies the pathetic, in the other the argumentative. These incorporated together (as was observed in the first chapter) constitute that vehemence of contention, to which the greatest exploits of eloquence ought doubtless to be ascribed. Here then is the principal scope for argument, but not the only scope, at will appear in the sequel. When the first end alone is attained, the pathetic without the rational, the passions are indeed roused from a disagreeable languor by the help of the imagination, and the mind is thrown into a state which, though accompanied with some painful emotions, rarely fails, upon the whole, to affect it with pleasure. But, if the hearers are judicious, no practical effect is produced. They cannot by such declamation be influenced to a particular action, because not convinced that that action will conduce to the gratifying of the passion raised. Your eloquence hath fired my ambition, and makes me burn with public zeal. The consequence is, there is nothing which at present I would not attempt for the sake of fame, and the interest of my country. You advise me to such a conduct; but you have not shown me how that can contribute to gratify either passion. Satisfy me in this, and I am instantly at your command. Indeed, when the hearers are rude and ignorant, nothing more is necessary in the speaker than to inflame their passions. They will not require that the connexion between the conduct he urges and the end proposed be evinced to them. His word will satisfy. And therefore bold affirmations are made to supply the place of reasons. Hence it is that the rabble are ever the prey of quacks and impudent pretenders of every denomination.
On the contrary, when the other end alone is attained, the rational without the pathetic, the speaker is as far from his purpose as before. You have proved, beyond contradiction, that acting thus is the sure way to procure such an object. I perceive that your reasoning is conclusive: but I am not affected by it. Why? I have no passion for the object. I am indifferent whether I procure it or not. You have demonstrated that such a step will mortify my enemy. I believe it; but I have no resentment, and will not trouble myself to give pain to another. Your arguments evince that it would gratify my vanity. But I prefer my ease. Thus passion is the mover to action, reason is the guide. Good is the object of the will, truth is the object of the understanding. 79
It may be thought that when the motive is the equity, the
generosity, or the intrinsic merit of the action recommended,argument
may be employed to evince the reasonableness of the end, as well as
the fitness of the means. But this way of speaking suits better the
popular dialect than the philosophical. The term
reasonableness, when used in this manner, means nothing but
the goodness, the amiableness, or moral excellency. If therefore the
hearer hath no love of justice, no benevolence, no regard to right,
although he were endowed with the perspicacity of a cherub, your
harangue could never have any influence on his mind. The reason is,
when you speak of the fitness of the means, you address yourself only
to the head; when you speak of the goodness of the end, you address
yourself to the heart, of which we supposed him destitute. Are we
then to class the virtues among the passions? By no means. But
without entering into a discussion of the difference, which would be
foreign to our purpose, let it suffice to observe, that they have
this in common with passion. They necessarily imply an habitual
propensity to a certain species of conduct, an habitual aversion to
the contrary: a veneration for such a character, an abhorrence of
such another. They are, therefore, though not passions, so closely
related to them, that they are properly considered as motives to
action, being equally capable of giving an impulse to the will. The
difference is akin to that, if not the same, which rhetoricians
observe between pathos and ethos, passion and
disposition. 80
Accordingly, what is addressed solely to the moral powers of the
mind, is not so properly denominated the pathetic, as the
sentimental. The term, I own, is rather modern, but is
nevertheless convenient, as it fills a vacant room, and doth not,
like most of our new-fangled words, justle out older and worthier
occupants, to the no small detriment of the language. It occupies, so
to speak, the middle place between the pathetic and that which is
addressed to the imagination, and partakes of both, adding to the
warmth of the former the grace and attractions of the latter.
Now, the principal questions on this subject are these two:-How is
a passion or disposition that is favourable to the design of the
orator, to be excited in the hearers? How is an unfavourable passion
or disposition to be calmed? As to the first it was said already in
general, that passion must be awakened by communicating livery ideas
of the object. The reason will be obvious from the following remarks:
A passion is most strongly excited by sensation. The sight of danger,
immediate or near, instantly rouseth fear; the feeling of an injury,
and the presence of the injurer, in a moment kindle anger. Next to
the influence of sense is that of memory, the effect of which upon
passion, if the fact be recent, and remembered distinctly and
circumstantially, is almost equal. Next to the influence of memory is
that of imagination; by which is here solely meant the faculty of
apprehending what is neither perceived by the senses, nor remembered.
Now, as it is this power of which the orator must chiefly avail
himself, it is proper to inquire what those circumstances are, which
will make the ideas he summons up in the imaginations of his hearers,
resemble, in lustre and steadiness, those of sensation and
remembrance. For the same circumstances will infallibly make them
resemble also in their effects; that is, in the influence they will
have upon the passions and affections of the heart.
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