Eloquence (n.) is needed because knowing a thing is valuable moves no one until an orator excites the imagination.
Eloquence (n.) rather than argument brings men to religion: no need to prove what everyone feels — only to make them feel it more intimately.
Eloquence (n.) is less use in abstract reasoning than hitting the one right point of view; reserve the flowers of rhetoric for subjects fitted to them.
Eloquence (n.) rather than reason carries the prize in philosophy: the victory goes not to the men at arms but to the trumpeters, drummers and musicians of the army.
Eloquence (n.) at its highest pitch leaves no room for reason — and what Cicero or Demosthenes could scarcely manage, every Capuchin can do by touching gross and vulgar passions.
Eloquence (n.) is no friend of reason — at its highest pitch, it leaves little room for reason or reflection, but addresses itself entirely to the fancy or the affections, captivates the willing hearers, and subdues their understanding.