(77.) Proving too Much.

It may seem strange, that in any process of argumentation, there should be mentioned such a fault as proving too much. But sometimes an argument which seems to prove the proposition in question, may also prove another and an absurd conclusion; and thus the first conclusion is invalidated. If, for example, we are told that a slave was beaten to death by his master; and hence it is argued that a system which will allow it is therefore evil; then, if we find that a woman was beaten to death by her husband, or a child by his father, by the same reasoning we should object to matrimony and paternity. There may be, and are evils in every human system, but if we attempt to prove them by such invalid arguments, we injure, rather than support our cause.

If, in the construction of a discourse, we design to refute the arguments of our adversary, it cannot be too strongly urged that these arguments or objections should be fairly and fully stated; simple justice demands this; and besides, the effect produced on the mind of the hearer is an excellent one, when he finds that honesty, in this particular, characterizes the discourse. Thus, even in controversy," Honesty is the best policy."

It is a difficult and delicate question to determine just how much proof of a given proposition is neces

sary; how earnest may be our refutation of an opponent's position. For, the effect upon the mind of the hearer is weakened, if he finds that we are plying strong argument to prove something almost axiomatic, or to disprove something which is scarcely tenable without the attack. Thus he begins to fancy that the apparently weak assertion, which we combat with such energy, must conceal something really strong and difficult of refutation; and as the arguments against it are increased, and the supposed latent value of the proposition remains still undisclosed, the hearer begins to doubt. It is like the absurdity of levelling a cannon against a sparrow; the bird may be instantly destroyed, but if the sportsman have no manifest reason for such gunnery, he will be regarded as inSuppose, for example, that we attempt, with our strongest arguments, to prove the existence of the Deity, which we already believe, for we have no argument as strong as our intuition; we may find ourselves in the position conceived by the poetess, when she speaks of

sane.

"Books, which prove

God's being so definitely, that man's doubt

Grows self-defined the other side the line;
Made Atheist by suggestion."

The arguments adduced should be not only valid, but clear, commensurate in number and force with the demands of the subject; not endeavouring to

establish that which may be taken for granted; always ready with the just burden of proof; not proving too much, and thus defeating themselves; and not presenting a strong and bristling front to a weak and supine enemy.

The consideration of rhetorical arguments at length would require a review of many of the subjects treated by logic; such as the forms of arguments, and the different kinds of material fallacies, i. e. fallacies in which the subject-matter of the premisses or of the conclusion is false. But with the foregoing indications of the forms and general use of such arguments, we must leave the general subject of Conviction as an object of discourse. In the chapter on Arrangement, will be found a statement of the proper order and sequence of rhetorical arguments, to give strength and compactness to discourse in order to

convince.

Before proceeding to the consideration of the arrangement of arguments, and of the other parts of discourse, we come to dwell, for a little time, upon the other principal object of discourse. This has been called persuasion; and, although it is not immediately concerned about purely argumentative discourse, it constitutes an important part of every discourse of a mixed nature; and is alone capable of exercising an influence over the wills and tempers of men, by which they are led to just and laudable actions.

CHAPTER X.

PERSUASION.

PERSUASION (per and suadeo, to urge or incite through certain modes), means the influencing of the will.

Conviction, we have endeavoured to show, is attained by the placing of new thoughts in logical forms of argument, and establishing in the mind the truth by means of valid proof. But this truth, thus armed and substantiated by proof, may be acknowledged, and assented to by the intellect, and yet exert no influence whatever upon the conduct or character, such as its acknowledgment ought to produce. We have invented our discourse to convince the Intellect; we must now undertake another process-through the feelings to sway the will. This is the work of Persuasion.

Persuasion, then, or the moving of the will, is effected by the presenting of motives to action, and by the appeal to the feelings which will give these motives an entrance and influence.

First, then, of the motives to action. These, it is

obvious, are of two kinds, and tend to show us that the special object proposed is truly a desirable one, and also that the modes by which it may be attained are the ones suggested in the discourse. That is, persuasion depends first on Argument, and then or Exhortation.

I. The first class of motives includes those which are purely mental, and the conviction produced by proof addresses itself to these motives. Thus, very often, the mere presentation of the truth to produce conviction, excites these motives, and also produces persuasion.

There are men who will shut their ears to all appeals to feeling, as intemperate and deceptive, and who will act promptly on conviction of the truth and of duty. With such, then, when we have attained the object of conviction, conviction has at once induced persuasion.

II. The other class of motives are such as are brought to bear upon the sensibilities, and to present such motives we make what are called appeals to the feelings; or, in other words, we play upon the passions of our hearers.

In the general term sensibilities are to be included the appetites and grosser passions, the affections of a higher order of sentiment, and the emotions, already referred to, as excited by beauty, sublimity, and goodness; all those feelings in short which hold man in