good opinion he has created of himself being a prejudice in its favor.
For if while he speaks he appears to be a bad man, he must in
consequence plead ill, because what he says will be thought repugnant to
justice. The style and manner suitable on these occasions ought,
therefore, to be sweet and insinuating, never hot and imperious, never
hazarded in too elevated a strain. It will be sufficient to speak in a
proper, pleasing, and probable way.

The orator's business in regard to the passions should be not only to
paint atrocious and lamentable things as they are, but even to make
those seem grievous which are considered tolerable, as when we say that
an injurious word is less pardonable than a blow, and that death is
preferable to dishonor. For the powers of eloquence do not consist so
much in forcing the judge into sentiments which the nature of the matter
itself may be sufficient to inspire him with, as they do in producing
and creating, as it were, the same sentiments when the subject may seem
not to admit them. This is the vehemence of oratorical ability which
knows how to equal and even to surpass the enormity and indignity of the
facts it exposes, a quality of singular consequence to the orator, and
one in which Demosthenes excelled all others.


THE SECRET OF MOVING THE PASSIONS

The great secret for moving the passions is to be moved ourselves, for
the imitation of grief, anger, indignation, will often be ridiculous if
conforming to only our words and countenance, while our heart at the
same time is estranged from them. What other reason makes the afflicted
exclaim in so eloquent a manner during the first transports of their
grief? And how, otherwise, do the most ignorant speak eloquently in