In the following quotations, compare the overbearing arrogance of
Burke's introduction with the simple modesty of Proctor's:—
Mr. Speaker, I rise under some embarrassment occasioned by a feeling of delicacy toward one-half of the house, and of sovereign contempt for the other half. [Footnote: Edmund Burke, House of Commons, March 22, 1775.]
Mr. President, more importance seems to be attached by others to my recent visit to Cuba than I had given it, and it has been suggested that I make a public statement of what I saw and how the situation impressed me. This I do on account of the public interest in all that concerns Cuba, and to correct some inaccuracies that have, not unnaturally, appeared in reported interviews with me. [Footnote: Redfield Proctor, United States Senate, March 17, 1898.]
FAIRNESS. Few things will assist an arguer more in securing a respectful hearing from those who do not agree with him, but whom he would convince, than the quality of fairness. The arguer should take the position of one seeking the truth regardless of what it may be. If he wishes others to look at the question from his standpoint, he will have to show that he is willing to consider the question from their point of view. Everything' in the shape of prejudice, everything which would tend to indicate that he had formed conclusions prior to his investigation, he must carefully avoid.
In this connection consider the following:—
I very much regret that it should have been thought necessary to suggest to you that I am brought here to "hurry you against the law and beyond the evidence." I hope I have too much regard for justice, and too much respect for my own character, to attempt either; and were I to make such attempt, I am sure that in this court nothing can be carried against the law, and that gentlemen, intelligent and just as you are, are not, by any power, to be hurried beyond the evidence. Though I could well have wished to shun this occasion, I have not felt at liberty to withhold my professional assistance, when it is supposed that I may be in some degree useful in investigating and discovering the truth respecting this most extraordinary murder. It has seemed to be a duty incumbent on me, as on every other citizen, to do my best and my utmost to bring to light the perpetrators of this crime. Against the prisoner at the bar, as an individual, I cannot have the slightest prejudice. I would not do him the smallest injury or injustice. But I do not affect to be indifferent to the discovery and the punishment of this deep guilt. I cheerfully share in the opprobrium, how great so ever it may be, which is cast on those who feel and manifest an anxious concern that all who had a part in planning, or a hand in executing, this deed of midnight assassination, may be brought to answer for their enormous crime at the bar of public justice. [Footnote: Works of Daniel Webster, Vol. VI, p. 51. Little, Brown & Co., Boston, 1857.]
SINCERITY. Another quality of paramount importance to the arguer is sincerity. This he must really possess if he is to be eminently successful. To feign it is almost impossible; some word or expression, some gesture or inflection of the voice, the very attitude of the insincere arguer will betray his real feelings. If he tries to arouse an emotion that he himself does not feel, his affectation will be apparent and his effort a failure. There are few things that an audience resents more than being tricked into an expression of feeling. If they even mistrust that a speaker is trying to deceive them, that he is arguing merely for personal gain or reputation and has no other interest in the case, no desire to establish the truth, they will not only withhold their confidence, but will also become prejudiced against him. It is usually inviting disaster to champion a cause in which one is not interested heart and soul. Of course in class room work the student cannot always avoid taking a false position, and the training he receives thereby is excellent, but he cannot make his persuasion of the highest type of effectiveness unless he honestly and sincerely believes what he says, and feels the emotions he would arouse.
AN APPEAL TO SOME EMOTION. One of the strongest forms of conciliation is the direct appeal to a dominant emotion. If an arguer can find some common ground on which to meet his audience, some emotion by which they may be moved, he can usually obtain a personal hold that will overcome hostility and lack of interest. In deciding what emotion to arouse, he must make as careful and thorough a study of his audience as he can. In general, the use of conviction need vary but little to produce the same results on different men; processes of pure reasoning are essentially the same the world around. But with persuasion the case is different; emotions are varied, and in each separate instance the arguer must carefully consider the ruling passions and ideals of his audience. The hopes and aspirations of a gang of ignorant miners would differ widely from the desires of an assembly of college students, or of a coterie of metropolitan capitalists. Education, wealth, social standing, politics, religion, race, nationality, every motive that is likely to have weight with the audience should be taken into consideration. Remembering that he has to choose between such diverse emotions as ambition, fear, hatred, love, patriotism, sense of duty, honor, justice, self-interest, pleasure, and revenge, the arguer must make his selection with the greatest care, and then drive home the appeal with all the force and eloquence at his command. The higher and nobler the emotion he can arouse, the greater and more permanent will be the result. If the audience is such that he can successfully arouse no higher feeling than that of self-interest or revenge, he will, of necessity, have to appeal to these motives; but whenever he can, he should appeal to the noblest sentiments of mankind.
A famous illustration of the effectiveness of this sort of conciliation is found in Wendell Phillips' oration entitled The Murder of Lovejoy. By appealing to their reverence for the past, he silenced the mob that had come to break up the meeting, and in the end he won over the house that had been packed against him.
We have met for the freest discussion of these resolutions, and the events which gave rise to them. I hope I shall be permitted to express my surprise at the sentiments of the last speaker, surprise not only at such sentiments from such a man, but at the applause they have received within these walls. A comparison has been drawn between the events of the Revolution and the tragedy at Alton. We have heard it asserted here, in Faneuil Hall, that Great Britain had a right to tax the colonies, and we have heard the mob at Alton, the drunken murderers of Lovejoy, compared to those patriot fathers who threw the tea overboard! Fellow citizens, is this Faneuil Hall doctrine?…. Sir, when I heard the gentleman lay down principles which place the murderers of Alton side by side with Otis and Hancock, with Quincy and Adams, I thought those pictured lips (pointing to the portraits in the Hall) would have broken into voice to rebuke the recreant American— the slanderer of the dead. The gentleman said that he should sink into insignificance if he dared to gainsay the principles of these resolutions. Sir, for the sentiments he has uttered, on soil consecrated by the prayers of Puritans and the blood of patriots, the earth should have yawned and swallowed him up. [Footnote: American Orations, Vol. II, page 102. G. P. Putnam's Sons.]