Experience constitutes almost the only effective process by which a truth may be solidly established in the mind of the masses, and illusions grown too dangerous be destroyed.To this end, however, it is necessary that the experience should take place on a very large scale, and be very frequently repeated.The experiences undergone by one generation are useless, as a rule, for the generation that follows, which is the reason why historical facts, cited with a view to demonstration, serve no purpose.Their only utility is to prove to what an extent experiences need to be repeated from age to age to exert any influence, or to be successful in merely shaking an erroneous opinion when it is solidly implanted in the mind of the masses.
Our century and that which preceded it will doubtless be alluded to by historians as an era of curious experiments, which in no other age have been tried in such number.
The most gigantic of these experiments was the French Revolution.
To find out that a society is not to be refashioned from top to bottom in accordance with the dictates of pure reason, it was necessary that several millions of men should be massacred and that Europe should be profoundly disturbed for a period of twenty years.To prove to us experimentally that dictators cost the nations who acclaim them dear, two ruinous experiences have been required in fifty years, and in spite of their clearness they do not seem to have been sufficiently convincing.The first, nevertheless, cost three millions of men and an invasion, the second involved a loss of territory, and carried in its wake the necessity for permanent armies.A third was almost attempted not long since, and will assuredly be attempted one day.To bring an entire nation to admit that the huge German army was not, as was currently alleged thirty years ago, a sort of harmless national guard,[15] the terrible war which cost us so dear had to take place.To bring about the recognition that Protection ruins the nations who adopt it, at least twenty years of disastrous experience will be needful.These examples might be indefinitely multiplied.
[15] The opinion of the crowd was formed in this case by those rough-and-ready associations of dissimilar things, the mechanism of which I have previously explained.The French national guard of that period, being composed of peaceable shopkeepers, utterly lacking in discipline and quite incapable of being taken seriously, whatever bore a similar name, evoked the same conception and was considered in consequence as harmless.The error of the crowd was shared at the time by its leaders, as happens so often in connection with opinions dealing with generalisations.In a speech made in the Chamber on the 31st of December, 1867, and quoted in a book by M.E.Ollivier that has appeared recently, a statesman who often followed the opinion of the crowd but was never in advance of it--I allude to M.
Thiers--declared that Prussia only possessed a national guard analogous to that of France, and in consequence without importance, in addition to a regular army about equal to the French regular army; assertions about as accurate as the predictions of the same statesman as to the insignificant future reserved for railways.
4.REASON
In enumerating the factors capable of making an impression on the minds of crowds all mention of reason might be dispensed with, were it not necessary to point out the negative value of its influence.
We have already shown that crowds are not to be influenced by reasoning, and can only comprehend rough-and-ready associations of ideas.The orators who know how to make an impression upon them always appeal in consequence to their sentiments and never to their reason.The laws of logic have no action on crowds.[16]
To bring home conviction to crowds it is necessary first of all to thoroughly comprehend the sentiments by which they are animated, to pretend to share these sentiments, then to endeavour to modify them by calling up, by means of rudimentary associations, certain eminently suggestive notions, to be capable, if need be, of going back to the point of view from which a start was made, and, above all, to divine from instant to instant the sentiments to which one's discourse is giving birth.
This necessity of ceaselessly varying one's language in accordance with the effect produced at the moment of speaking deprives from the outset a prepared and studied harangue of all efficaciousness.In such a speech the orator follows his own line of thought, not that of his hearers, and from this fact alone his influence is annihilated.
