mand others by sympathy with them, but by power, by passion, by will." On other occasions the orator is not reluctant to remember that the words of sincerity and kindness never fail when addressed to people not stirred by passion or rendered sullen by real or fancied contempt. Then the iron argument and the imperious air give place to the happier philosophy sung by Darwin, which teaches "How Love and Sympathy, with potent charm, CHAPTER IV. METHOD. THE art of persuasion is dependent on no one thing so much as method. To have the fact, and to know how to tell it, is to hold rhetorical success in our hands. But it is of no use to have the fact unless we know how to tell it, and it is this which method teaches. There is, said the "Quarterly Review" lately, no power over human affairs like the right word spoken at the right season. Method is derived from a Greek word signifying a path, a way, or transit. Where there are many transits, step follows step in pursuit of an object. And as there must be, for a true pursuit, a definite object in view, the principle of unity is implied in that of progression. Hence in a true method there must be a definite pursuit, otherwise circumstances will create sensations; but there will be no thought without method; and there may be restless and incessant activity, but without method there will be no progress. When the mind becomes accustomed to the outward impressions of objects, it turns to their relations, which hence become its prime pursuit, and may be called the materials of method. The kinds of relations are two, the one arising from that which must be, the other that by which we merely perceive that it is. The former is called law, in its original acceptation, laying down the rule; the other is called the relation of theory.* This is the method of science; it applies to the order pursued in the arrangement of encyclopedias. The method of art, if not so rigid, is yet regular, and marks both performances and character. Coleridge asks: "What is it that first strikes us, and strikes us at once, in a man of education, and which, among educated men, so instantly distinguishes the man of superior mind? Not always the weight or novelty of his remarks, nor always the interest of the facts which he communicates, for the subject of conversation may chance to be trivial, and its duration to be short. Still less can any just admiration arise from any peculiarity in his words and phrases, for every man of practical good sense will follow, as far as the matters under consideration will permit him, that golden rule of Cesar's: Insolens verbum, tanquam scopulum, evitare. The true cause of the impression made on us is, that his mind is methodical. We perceive this in the unpremeditated and evidently habitual arrangement of his words, flow * See Encyclopedia Metropolitana, Art. "Method." ing spontaneously and necessarily from the clearness of the leading idea, from which distinctness of mental vision, when men are fully accustomed to it, they obtain a habit of foreseeing at the beginning of every sentence how it is to end, and how all its parts may be brought out in the best and most orderly succession. However irregular and desultory the conversation may happen to be, there is method in the fragments."* The illustration of this is easy. Two persons of opposite opinions will often meet; the one to convert the other. For instance: A seeks to bring B to the adoption of his opinions. I have witnessed the experiment often. The general course of procedure is this. A commences to unfold, expatiate on, and enforce his views. He expects thus to win B to their entertainment. But the mistake is a grave one. A argues at B when he should reason with him. A thus stands on the platform of his opinions and preaches to B, who is perched upon a platform of his own. A thus expects B to come to him. B probably expects the same of A. Thus both expect what neither intends. A, in expecting B to come to him, assumes that on the part of his opponent there exists a predisposition for his views. This should never be assumed. It is the first endeavor of a wise propagandist to create it if it does not exist, and strengthen it if it does; and whether it exists or not he should always condescend as though it did not. The business of A, the converter, is to go down to the platform B stands upon, to inquire his principles, study his views and turn of thought until he finds some common ground of faith, morals, opinion, or practice, with which he *Encyclopedia Metropolitana. can identify himself. The propagandist should commence by playing the pathfinder. The business of A is to find a path from B's platform to his own, down which B can agreeably walk. When a common ground is found, A argues on that to B. The narrow spot of identity soon enlarges if A has truth on his side, for all truth, like electricity, has a tendency to pass into all bodies uncharged with it, until an equilibrium of light is established, and the current is universal. A, in finding a common ground in B's intellectual sphere, establishes an equality with B. This gives A an advantage. By studying B's views, instead of making B study his, he condescends to B; he thus establishes fraternity. This predisposes B to good will. Equality and fraternity are the two inlets to the understanding. Conversion is uniformity. It ends in intellectual equality. It must begin so. The pleasure of universal opinion is the harmony it creates; the propagandists commence in fraternity, that being the auspicious harbinger of harmony. It is of no use to say you cannot find a common ground. He who cannot find it, cannot convert. How can persons, any more than bodies, cohere who never touch? So long as each denies to the other a particle of reason on his side; so long as each maintains an infallibility of pretension to complete truth; they both assume what is contrary to the nature of things, and exclude the common ground which must be established between them, where truth and error can join issue. There is no impassible gulf between contending men or contending opinions but that dug by pride and passion. We all have a common start ing point. We have a common consciousness of impression; a common nature to investigate; a common sincerity actuates us; truth is our common object, and we have a common interest in discovering it. Nature made us friends: it is false pride that inakes us enemies. A common ground exists between all disputants. This, is an important fact too little attended to, or indeed too little understood by inexperienced thinkers. The common ground which exists is not one which policy makes, but one that nature provides. These remarks make conviction to depend upon truth, not upon forms of procedure. Nothing is recommended here which is inconsistent with truth; no cunning questioning, no sophistical entrapment. The sole precepts are those of condescension and contrast. Find a common ground of agreement, and you find a common point of sight, from which all objects are seen in the same light; and a clear plane is obtained on which principles can be drawn, and a perfect contrast of truth and error displayed. He who has the truth will make it plainer by wisdom of procedure. Differences are often made wider by irrelevant, repulsive debate. Differences which did not exist are often created in this way. All men desire the truth, and there is a way in which all can find it. The understandings of men run in a given channel; each thinker looks as it were through a telescope of his own. Let A bring his views within the vision of B, and the chances are in favor of B seeing the truth, if truth there be. If he sees error, A is benefited by the discovery made by a clearer sight than his own. "The faculty of speech," says Quinctilian, "we derive from nature; but the art |