exercise of the orator's powers; and this is what the
contending parties can not inform us of, nor is it contained in the
state of their cases. Proofs, it is true, make the judges presume that
our cause is the better, but passion makes them wish it to be such, and
as they wish it, they are not far from believing it to be so. For as
soon as they begin to absorb from us our passions of anger, favor,
hatred, or pity, they make the affair their own. As lovers can not be
competent judges of beauty, because love blinds them, so here a judge
attentive to the tumultuous working of a passion, loses sight of the way
by which he should proceed to inquire after the truth. The impetuous
torrent sweeps him away, and he is borne down in the current. The effect
of arguments and witnesses is not known until judgment has been passed,
but the judge who has been affected by the orator, still sitting and
hearing, declares his real sentiments. Has not he who is seen to melt
into tears, already pronounced sentence? Such, then, is the power of
moving the passions, to which the orator ought to direct all his
efforts, this being his principal work and labor, since without it all
other resources are naked, hungry, weak, and unpleasing. The passions
are the very life and soul of persuasion.

QUALITIES NEEDED IN THE ORATOR

What we require in the orator is, in general, a character of goodness,
not only mild and pleasing, but humane, insinuating, amiable, and
charming to the hearer; and its greatest perfection will be if all, as
influenced by it, shall seem to flow from the nature of things and
persons, that so the morals of the orator may shine forth from his
discourse and be known in their genuine colors. This character of
goodness should invariably be maintained by those whom a mutual tie
ought to bind in strict union, whenever it may happen that they suffer
anything from each other, or pardon, or make satisfaction, or admonish,
or reprimand, but far from betraying any real anger or hatred.

A sentiment very powerful for exciting hatred may arise when an act of
submission to our opponents is understood as a silent reproach of their
insolence. Our willingness to yield must indeed show them to be
insupportable and troublesome, and it commonly happens that they who
have desire for railing, and are too free and hot in their invectives,
do not imagine that the jealousy they create is of far greater prejudice
to them than the malice of their speech